


Magpie

by sugarplumsenpai



Series: Wings of Freedom [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Friendship, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-War, Romance, Tea, canonverse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-07-06 07:12:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 177,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarplumsenpai/pseuds/sugarplumsenpai
Summary: As Eren and Levi settle into their life together, they find new trials and complications are waiting around the corner.[Sequel to Sparrow (Revised)]





	1. December 26th

**Author's Note:**

> This fic picks up right where the last one left off. Due to the complexity of the plot and the importance of the original characters, it helps to be familiar with this verse before you start reading. This series is Canon Compliant, yet diverts from manga chapter 90 onwards; including some detail changes from manga chapter 86 onwards to fit this verse and make it round. 
> 
> Though I do not tag any sort of plot spoilers or warnings, please be aware Shingeki no Kyojin is a tale about war, and since this is a post-canon setting in an emotion-driven voice, issues and elements may come up that might be tough to process. That aside, I ask you to trust me and enjoy the ride. :)
> 
> Heaps of thanks to [KurahieiritrJIO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KurahieiritrJIO) for the relentless encouragement to write a tale this long, for all the brilliant ideas, and the amazing editing work—including helpful insight on psychology, historical trivia, and the art of words. Heaps of thanks also to [IttyBittyTeapot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSeedofDarkness/pseuds/IttyBittyTeapot) for our meta talk, the joint laughing and sobbing sessions that often end in both, and her gorgeous literate fairy dust sparkles all across this story. Without you two and all our wonderful conversations, this story would not exist, let alone be something I’m as proud of as I am. Bro fist bumps to you both for being such amazing fellow writers and friends.
> 
> This fic will be updated every second Monday.
> 
> This fic has fan art now!  
> For chapter 5 by the amazing [blauerozen](http://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/post/182626058280/i-am-so-in-love-the-wonderful-blauerozen-drew).  
> For chapter 19 by the sweet [Nono](http://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/post/184316849765/its-been-months-since-the-lovely-9-69-drew-this).  
> For chapter 20 by the lovely [Flanpu](https://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/post/184555255823/i-have-been-in-absolute-love-with-eren-and-levis), plus an additional [doodle](https://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/post/184529772510/magpie-chapter-20-is-online-therell-be-a-proper) from her.  
> For chapter 20 by the kind [Gaki Levi](https://mariefbm.tumblr.com/post/184572452218/heres-some-doodles-which-were-inspired-by-the-new).  
> For the verse by the truly-ever-so-lovely [Flanpu](http://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/post/177626270905/announcement-sparrow-sequel-will-be-called).

Eren is sick.

Levi has witnessed him countless times in various stages of being unwell, but the last time Levi saw Eren looking this pale was years ago. 

It starts with Eren jolting awake in the middle of the night, and Levi right with him, jackknife snapping open in his hand, senses alert, and pulse racing. His muscles relax when there seems to be no danger. Yet then Eren groans as his hands shoot up to his head, and it's clear something is wrong. 

“Eren?” Levi closes the knife to place it back under his pillow. 

“Fuck.” The curse cuts through the night in a raspy, strained wheeze.

Eren’s palms still press against his temples, fingers curling in his hair. His eyes glisten in the dark as they look at Levi. A bit too bright, a bit too haunted. His shirt clings to him, drenched in sweat. His breath comes too short. 

“Nightmares?” Levi asks. 

Eren’s eyes close in quiet affirmation as he swallows. “Sorry for waking you,” he pants. 

Frowning, Levi rubs his bent back. “I’ll make some tea.” 

“Yeah.” Eren nods a couple of times as though it would help to bring his mind back to the here and now. “Yeah, thank you.”

They stand and leave for the kitchen, Eren making a detour to the bathroom whereas Levi pads into the living room, lighting some lamps on his way. The night has cooled the room, and after checking on the hearth with its few remaining, glimmering coals, Levi adds a couple of logs to the fireplace. They are reluctant to catch the flames, so Levi adds a piece of bark and pokes in the fading heat before he is satisfied and fills a kettle with water for their tea.

He is about to open the caddie with relaxing herbs when the unmistakable sound comes. His insides cringe, and his feet fly over the floor before he consciously ordered them to move. Eren is throwing up. 

“Shit, fuck.”

It doesn’t take Levi five seconds to reach the bathroom. Not giving a damn about privacy, he slams open the door without knocking to enter. The sight makes his blood freeze in his veins.

Crouching on the floor, Eren is bending over the toilet, his hair hanging over his face in messy strands, his fingers clenched around the porcelain. A heartbeat later, another wave of sickness overcomes him, and he retches.

“I’m okay,” he croaks between two coughs. Sniffs.

Ignoring him with a click of his tongue alongside a muttered “stubborn fuck,” Levi snatches the next best towel from a hook to hold it under the tap before wringing it out. He squats next to Eren to cool his neck with the dampened cloth, brushing the hair out of Eren’s face. 

“It’s normal,” Eren says under a wheeze. “Don’t worry.”

Levi presses his lips together. The last time Eren threw up with Levi as a witness, was after Armin shifted willingly for the first time. For as much as they wanted to reveal the secrets of Eren’s basement, a surprising amount of shit had come from it. Even by their standards. 

“Because of the dream?” Levi asks. 

Eren shakes his head in a wobbly motion. “No.” He gulps. “I don’t think so.” He gulps again with watering eyes and instantly bends back over the toilet bowl. The liquid coming out looks like pure bile. It smells like it too.

“Will be over soon. Give me a minute.”

After staring at Eren’s convulsing figure for another moment with half-empty hands, a twisting heart, and nothing much to do besides cooling Eren’s nape, Levi rises to fill him a glass of water. “Here,” he says, crouching back down and pushing the glass into Eren’s searching fingers. 

Big green eyes meet his, red-rimmed and tear-strained in the dim light from the corridor. Eren’s nose is running. His brow is glistening and pale. His voice is hoarse and out of breath. “Thanks.”

Nodding, Levi turns the damp towel in his hand to press the cooler side onto Eren’s skin, patting some of the sweat away. 

Eren rinses his mouth, wipes his lips with the back of his hand, and takes another greedy gulp just to spit it out too. His breath slowly evens out. He takes the glass into his left hand and reaches out with his right to squeeze Levi’s fingers. 

The gesture comes with such a confident reassurance and casualness that Levi frowns at the meaning. “This happens often?” he asks. 

“Sometimes.” Eren rests back on his heels to rise to his feet, a bit wobbly on his legs, and flushes the contents of his stomach down the drain. 

Standing too, Levi feels Eren’s forehead. “You’re burning hot.” His wrist gets caught by long, gentle fingers guiding his hand away. 

“I’m all right. It will pass.” The glass in Eren’s hand is nearly empty, and he refills it before reaching for his toothbrush. “It’s normal.”

Apprehension prickles on Levi’s neck. “Normal for what?” he demands. “You don’t even so much as catch a cold.” The sweet scent of sickness still lingers in the room, and the instant knowledge settles in his guts like a stone of ice. “Titan symptoms.”

Teeth already foamy, Eren speaks with the toothbrush stilling in his mouth. “I need to take the serum soon.” Steam rises from his ears, nostrils, and throat as his oesophagus and gums heal from the strain. “Happens every now and then.”

He brushes on, with Levi standing next to him, damp, now warm, towel in his clenching fist to keep his hand from shaking as the kettle in the kitchen whistles. A weak, wailing sound that sends a shiver down Levi’s back.

He can’t do much here, and the bathroom runs out of air, so he leaves Eren to his hygiene, and tends to the ongoing call for attention from the kitchen. He steps out of the bathroom, his heavy feet barely registering their touch on the floor. The washcloth still in his clutching grip. 

He’s staring into the steeping tea pot by the time Eren joins him in the kitchen. The window lets in a late December breeze, and Levi drags it in, his fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on the counter. Symptoms. He should have known. Eren only pressed his hands to his temples like that when something was the matter. Mostly when some hidden memories wanted to push through to his awareness. The headaches, which plagued him since Levi first met him, had gotten worse over the years, reaching their nastiest stage before the war ended, after their mission in the fog. They only stopped, to Levi’s knowledge, when Hanji developed the serum. However, the six weeks of Levi’s experience with a serum-treated Eren under his command hardly are anything to go by. Especially since Eren had already decided to avoid him as best as he could by then. 

At least they managed to sort out that old misunderstanding. The past five days since their talk are more than enough proof for this. Levi waking up with Eren at his side every day, curled up in their shared bed that at long last feels just right. Breakfast together, made by whoever was responsible for dinner the previous day with the other choosing the morning tea before the roles would switch in the evening. Eren’s improving cooking skills, even after barely a week of practice. Eager to learn as ever. Eren’s smiles brightening Levi’s days and nights to bit after bit seal some gaping old wounds and doubts. 

How long has Eren had this headache that it could be this strong now; so intense that he had to vomit? Or is it caused by the memories themselves? 

Eren steps up behind Levi, one hand squeezing Levi’s waist, his lips pressing against the top of Levi’s head. “It’s okay.” His presence is a veil of warmth around Levi’s back though for once it can’t do much to ease his mind. 

Lifting the scalding sieve out of the pot with calloused fingertips, Levi lets the herbs drip off over the opening. To buy some more seconds to think, to form a reply, to compose himself, and when he pours them each a cup, his hands are more or less under his command again. Non-shaking and steady. His fingers, however, remain restless, so he fastens them around his own cup after handing Eren his share. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Eren’s eyes are still puffy and glossy from the strain, and though his smile is there, it’s far from reaching its usual brightness. 

“I thought the symptoms were gone,” Levi says, forcing himself to sound as relaxed as possible. 

Eren looks at him for a stretching second before he answers with a small shake of his head. “Not entirely.”

“So there’s the barfing. The headaches. What else?”

Biting his lip, Eren looks down into the steam rising from his cup. “Not much.”

“Damn it, Eren, your earlobes glow like a beacon,” Levi snaps. He takes a deep, bracing breath and closes his eyes, clenches his mouth shut, and empties his lungs with a shuddering exhale. Opening his eyes, he begins anew. “What else?” he asks in a milder tone. “I need to know.” 

Eren wraps his fingers tight around the cup and sighs, moving over to the rattly dining table where he takes his usual seat. After closing the kitchen window, Levi follows to take his own chair. 

“I still have memories. Some not my own, some from my own past. Mostly moments I’d like to forget.” The knuckles around his cup turn white and his mouth presses into a tenacious line. “Only sometimes though. It’s all just sometimes. And it goes away after the injections.”

“When do you take them?” Levi asks. His cup is warm, though it feels strange in his hands. Like false comfort. 

“Still every first day of the month,” Eren says, looking up and fixing Levi with an insistent frown. “I always remember.” 

Holding the gaze for a moment, Levi nods as a small knot inside of him untwists.

“What can I do?”

Eren shakes his head. “It’s all in my mind. It’s my…” he swallows. “It’s our past. Theirs. Mine. You’re there sometimes too because of what I did.” The final sentence is a mere whisper, followed by a pleading nudge of feet below the table. “The last one not anymore, though. I think. Sleeping next to you helps. Holding you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Levi asks.

“We already did,” Eren says with a shrug. “We’re good. I think it was mostly because I was stupid and didn’t even know how I felt.” He chews on his lip, shifting on his seat. “I dreamt about the woods. And the fog.”

He dreamt about dying.

Pulse speeding up, Levi taps on his cup. One, two, three, four, five, one, two, three, four, five, and the next thing Levi knows, he stands. Raking an unsteady hand through his hair, he paces to the hearth, pokes the fire to check on the flames, and steps into the kitchen to fetch some chocolate. Val brought some over on Friday, and though Levi planned to open it to a happier occasion than this, they need it now. 

He opens the package and clicks the bar into little pieces which he puts on a small plate. “Eat,” he says as he sits back down again, placing the luxury next to Eren’s cup. “You look like shit.”

Eren nods and instantly takes a tiny bite, nudging the plate towards Levi afterwards in a silent  _ you too. _

Levi sighs and helps himself. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” His words come out strained, and he bites on the chocolate to keep more from coming. 

“I didn’t want to worry you for no reason,” Eren says, jaw set in a fractious angle before he loosens the tension with a brief, self-scolding grimace. “They’re just symptoms. It’s not like you can change them. And they’re not usually this bad. Normally, they’re just memories and nightmares. A mild headache, if at all. And that’s it.”

About two dozen end of the month days pass before Levi’s inner eye, and he reaches for a new piece of chocolate. It melts on his tongue, though does little to ease his nerves with its smooth, velvety texture and rich, bittersweet taste. “I need to know about stuff like this, Eren. This situation is fucking shit.”

Eren nods, chewing with slow movements and swallowing before taking a sip of his herbal infusion. 

A gut feeling urges Levi to press further. “Is there more?”

“Sometimes.” His thumb runs over the china of his cup as Eren searches for words. “Sometimes I feel weak for a bit after an injection or after a stressful day. It’s nothing bad, but I can feel dizzy. Like after having too little to eat. Food helps. I’ve got rations for it at my office. And protein bars in my jacket. Rest is better though.”

“Mikasa knows about this?” With Eren and Armin under her nose during their last mission, she must. 

“She does. The others do too.” Eren scratches his left underarm. “They saw me puke on the expedition, and Armin a few times too.”

“And Hanji knows too,” Levi says. 

“Yes.” 

“Tch.” Fingers clenching around his cup, Levi drinks a sip of tea, setting the china back onto its saucer a bit too hard in an attempt to bring his lungs back under control. They’re working too fast, and the air is tasting stale. 

Hanji should have told him. It’s clear why she hasn’t. Not when there’s nothing he could have done to change any of it. But he could have helped to make it better. Especially now.

Eren’s feet nudge against his own. “It’s all right. I’m here. Talk to me, Levi.”

“How do you know the serum does its job?” The sharp question is out before he can stop it. Chocolate be damned. It always loosens his tongue. 

“I can feel it.” Intense green eyes bore into his.

Levi shakes his head. As much as he trusts in gut instinct, in this case, the answer isn't enough. 

Eren understands. “Hanji also said something about my spinal fluid looking different with the serum. Healthy. We checked. A lot. I don’t want to die.” He pauses. “Not anymore. Not for a long time.”

Levi swallows as the wayward memories rush in. Eren towards the end of the war. Too quiet, restless, isolated. Eren being tied up in a cave, begging for his death, his spirit broken. The question if Historia ever apologised for what nearly happened down there shoots through Levi’s mind, and he has to open his hand to not crush his cup under the unhelpful thought. 

He blinks to pull himself back to the present, finding nothing but honesty and fiery resolve in Eren’s eyes. Stubborn. Eren has always been stubborn. Sometimes Levi wonders if this is entirely a good thing, for Eren at least. No one should endure as much pain as Eren has. And he still carries on, even when the weight of it crushes him. 

As though knowing Levi’s thoughts, Eren catches Levi’s hand on the table. “I don’t feel weak anymore,” he says. “Only in-between months, and even then not as much as I did. I almost don’t hear the voices in my head when I’m awake anymore, and if I do, I can tell them apart from my own. I’m myself.” 

“You’ll tell me when something is wrong. Anything. Whatever fuck should happen, I must know.”

Eren looks right back at him, expression serious. “I will.”

Levi nods. “I’ll talk to Hanji. Find out what I can do to make it easier when it happens.”

“Do that.”

“I’ll talk to Armin too when I can. And to Mikasa.”

“Okay. I’ll tell her to come over.” Eren squeezes his hand, and for now, Levi locks his panic away. 

There’s nothing he can do tonight. 

The scent of herbs fills the space between them. Slightly sharp, fresh, and clear like a morning in spring. 

“The infusion is nice,” Eren says, taking another sip. “I don’t know it yet. Chamomile?”

“Mm. With common balm, lavender, and verbena,” Levi explains. “Got it new this week. It’s supposed to be relaxing. Also good for digestion with a messed up stomach.” He scowls. “Or when you have to chuck up.”

A thin line deepens on Eren’s brow alongside a matching twin set around his mouth. “I don’t want to cause you trouble.” At Levi’s raised eyebrow Eren grimaces with a shrug. “I did enough of that already, didn’t I?”

“It wasn’t a burden, Eren,” Levi says, heart clenching in his chest. “You never were.”

Retrieving his hand, Eren scratches his arm again, and Levi kicks his shin to make him look up.

“You never were,” he repeats, stressing every word before jerking his chin to the plate between them. “Have more chocolate.”

 

*

 

By morning, Eren’s smile comes a bit easier. It’s more cheerful again, reaching his sleepy eyes when Levi searches them over his pillow to brush a wild lock of silky hair off his brow before tracing his stubbly jaw.

“Better?” he asks. 

The smile softens as Eren scuttles closer. “Mm.” His hand comes to a rest on Levi’s hip before moving onwards with a bold glint in the green irises, wrapping around Levi’s nightwear-covered morning wood.

“Brat.”

Eren grins. Levi smirks back and rolls them over.

It’s reassuring to hear Eren’s enthusiastic moans, to feel his strength and taste his fight, although it means they have to hurry with breakfast. 

While Eren prepares the porridge, Levi fetches the Monday newspaper from downstairs and curses as he opens it to hand the inner sheet to Eren. “Vultures.”

There, claiming the whole military section, sports the headline ‘Extra Extra!! Read All About It!’

“What is it?” Eren asks through a mouthful of food. 

Eyes fixed on the capital letters, Levi’s heart sinks. It was too much to hope for one day of peace. “Gossip,” he says, already skim-reading the article. 

Eren snorts. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Levi peers around the paper in his hands. Smile bright on his face, Eren is digging into his porridge, looking larger than life rather than plagued like only a few hours ago. His skin looks healthy, his tied-up hair shimmers golden in the first sun rays of dawn, and his movements are powerful, almost eager. His eyes are still a bit shadowed with tired semi-circles as they meet Levi’s, yet twinkle with fierce curiosity.

“Do you want a summary?” Levi asks with a lifted eyebrow. “Or the entire folderol?”

Chuckling, Eren stirs in his porridge. He already wears his straps, and the gear’s polished buckles catch the light from the window as he moves. “I think today, I’ll go with the summary.”

Focusing back on the offending article, Levi sighs. “According to Lobelia Schreiber, you moved in this weekend and we couldn’t be happier. It’s unclear whether you’ve quit the military since, apparently, you are a full-time staff member of the café now. If this is true, your poor Trainees will be devastated, and if it isn’t, I will be since you and I will have little quality time together. Which seems to be a public concern all of a sudden.”

“Idiots,” Eren says, tangling his feet with Levi’s. 

“That’s not all,” Levi says, reading on. It’s hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice as he continues. Not that he has any intention of doing so. 

“As it seems, you proposed yesterday, or at least people hope one of us has since it’s only the right thing to do.” He frowns at the lines of black ink. “And mark your calendar, since there’ll be a May wedding. On our meeting anniversary seven years ago when I, I quote, ‘heroically rescued you from a tragic death before I took you under my wings.’ Which, as Miss Schreiber so nicely writes, is when you fell in love with my stunning personality.”

Eren snorts. “Well, I fainted at your sight, didn’t I? It can’t be because I was exhausted or anything.”

A smirk tugs on Levi’s lips though it doesn’t last long. The more he reads on, the more a certain unease grows in his stomach. “Another rumour has it, you’ll appear in your Titan shape, and people are already placing bets on which tailor will have the honour to sew that tux. There’s also a debate on whether the court allows us to be together because of your special traits.” Levi scowls as he concludes, “It’s a whole fucking page of dross.”

“With pictures?” Eren asks, porridge dripping from his spoon. 

“They dragged out a drawing from the horrid statue in Mitras,” he answers, half absent-minded as he tries to pinpoint down what it is about this article that feels off. 

“The ridiculous one in which they made you taller and gave my half-transformed Titan a dick?”

Levi stares. “Did you even listen?” He closes the paper, folds it in half, and tosses it onto the table.

Shrugging, Eren tends back to his breakfast. “Of course, I did. Same old rubbish. Better than them writing I should be executed or that you are a public enemy though.”

Sighing, Levi picks up his spoon. “The one yesterday was at least partly right.”

“They should hire Evelyn as the local gazette did,” Eren says with a grin. “Lobelia Schreiber doesn’t know shit if she doesn’t even know I can’t shift anymore. How should I kiss you in Titan form anyway?”

“With me sitting on your face,” Levi thinks out loud. “Or rather dangling in front of it, I presume.”

Green eyes twinkle through a cloud of steaming Earl Grey. “My Titan doesn’t have lips. Bet Hanji would like to know how that works too without me licking your face.”

Levi snorts and digs into his bowl. “Keep that thought. It’s a good weapon.” 

Eren laughs and drinks his tea, the advanced dawn painting his features with beautiful light. He looks healthy, powerful, and young. And for a moment, Levi wishes this morning would never end.


	2. Shards

“Commander Zoe!” 

A head-splitting knock pounds in Hanji’s ears, accompanied by a booming, male voice that has Hanji blink.

“What time is it?” she mumbles into the dimly lit room, sitting up in her chair as she pushes her glasses onto her nose with a yawn. Papers rustle under her, one tenacious sheet sticking to her cheek for a second before gravity peels it off her face and makes it glide down. She fell asleep at her desk again. 

Another set of hammering knocks burst at the door. “Open up. This is an order!” 

Her first thought is she knows this voice, instantly followed by an odd sense of déjà-vu mingling with the realisation this will be a shitty day. 

“Commander Zoe!” 

Within a second, Hanji is awake. “It’s open!” she yells while her hands fumble for her mug of coffee. The clay is cold against her fingers, but as she lifts the cup to her mouth, its temperature is not the problem. The problem is it's empty. 

“Why?” she groans to herself as the door bangs open. Why is the coffee gone? And what is this idiot angry about now?

The door slams shut, and a burly man with a thrust out chest and highly adorned military jacket flounces towards her desk, waving a newspaper. As the distance between them closes, the prickly heat in Hanji’s office seems to increase. 

“Explain this!” he fumes. 

Rousing her senses to be as alert and quick for this talk as she possibly can, Hanji frowns at the intruder in a faint hope he will vanish or go up in flames if she only tries hard enough. It doesn’t work. Great. What will it be this time? 

“Didn’t we talk about the article and figure everything out yesterday?” she asks, squinting at the newspaper. Maybe this is a very odd dream, though her body tells her otherwise. Her back aches, and her neck is stiff. The sounds invading the room hurt her ears, and her bladder is close to bursting. 

“We did,” Claudio snarls. “This,” he slams the paper onto her desk, disturbing her chaotically ordered collection of notes, folders, and paperwork, “is today’s news.”

“Today’s?” Scrutinising the cretin before her, Hanji comes to the conclusion while he usually is mad at those things she supports, this time he is raging about something which isn’t good for her either. Albeit, most certainly, for different reasons.

Colonel Claudio—one of the biggest banes of Hanji’s existence—arrived in town the day before to put HQ, and especially Hanji herself, under ‘examination,’ after the Sunday paper revealed Eren and Levi’s relationship to the world. Though brightening Hanji’s morning, the article had caused a stir all the way up to the highest military ranks. So it was a matter of time until Zackley would send someone to ask a couple of questions. Why he sent Claudio, of all people, is a different matter. 

The Survey Corps’ feud with Colonel Claudio started after Erwin put Historia on the throne, reaching its personal peak as far as Hanji is concerned when Claudio forced Levi into retirement. Zackley knows Hanji wants to pick a crow with the man. She wonders whether Claudio was meant as a generous gift for her to play with, or whether Zackley needed him outside Mitras for a few days. Whatever Zackley’s reasons may be, Claudio has pranced around her office since noon the previous day, digging his nose into Eren’s private life. Under the pretence of orders and the compliance with the military protocol, of course.

After playing the slightly confused scientist for half a day whilst picturing ways to make Claudio answer for everything he’s done in his nasty life, Hanji made him capitulate and accept the situation. Eren is a soldier, and soldiers are allowed to date, fuck, and marry whoever they want. It was a grumbled defeat on Claudio’s side, yet a defeat nonetheless. Though he wanted some decrees to be drawn up, the plan was to do some routine checks on the Cadet program, and leave by midweek to report back to the capital. 

Which brings Hanji to the question of what he has to whine about now. Starting the interrogations anew is the last thing on her list of things to do, yet it seems it has to come first. 

She pulls the newspaper towards her, expecting the local gazette’s Sunday issue with Evelyn’s wonderful observations on Eren feeding Levi cake—seriously, she thinks, these two are too damn sweet. Instead, she reads the Paradis Herald’s headline, and every last hope of this being a prank or some kind of sick joke goes to waste. The picture of the hideous statue in Trost is new as well, and the date printed on page one is today’s. 

Blinking at the cover, her still fatigue-clouded eyes make out the words ‘Titan love’ right next to ‘retired Captain Levi’s stunning personality,’ and her vision turns red. 

Her brain springs into action. 

Oh fucking shit hell, this will be a fucking long day, won’t it? Because this is not lovely news at all. This is an offence. Eren! Shit, she hopes Eren is all right. Levi must have seen this and will already be vigilant too. They would have been under surveillance today anyway, but Hanji planned to at least bring in Claudio pliant and broken. She had prepared him until this morning’s newspaper ruined everything.

Her left leg starts to twitch, her foot longing to kick something, yet she contains the heavy jerks to small shaking movements of her knee. Strong, she must appear strong now, and just the right amount of weird. 

“Colonel Claudio,” Hanji says in an attempt to conciliate the looming menace in front of her desk. “Shall we discuss this at breakfast?” 

The approach fails. She can feel it even before he opens his mouth again. Damn, she needs her coffee.

“This is of the utmost importance, Commander Zoe,” he bellows, chest heaving and nostrils flaring. “I thought we were on the same page. Would you explain to me why Eren Yaeger has left this headquarter to live at a private home? And most of all: why is he still able to shift? Supreme Commander Zackley will not tolerate this. This is against the rules, and contradictory with your reports. What do you have to say in your defence?”

What a stuck-up prick! And what a bunch of nonsense. Hanji suppresses an eye roll and summons her aloof voice. It’s still slightly rusty with morning drowsiness. “I’m not familiar with the content of this article. Give me a minute to read.” 

He remains standing close by and keeps silent aside from his laboured breathing and his shoe tapping onto her floor in a rhythm which is far too irregular and loud in her head. Still, if he thinks he can unsettle her this way, he’s got it wrong. Two can play this game after all. 

So she ignores his proximity, leans back in her chair, brushes the paper even, squinting theatrically before cleaning her glasses with her shirt’s front, and makes a show of beginning to read. She takes her time too, with her eyes paying the words every bit of attention she needs to burn them into her head well enough so she will be able to recite the entire thing later. 

It’s long before she reached the end when she realises the reporter is someone they need to investigate, and take care of as every further sentence hits the message home that this is not good news at all. Hilarious, perhaps, at least viewed from a certain angle, but not good.

“Explain this to me, Commander Zoe,” Claudio barks the moment Hanji drops the paper onto her desk. 

“I can’t,” she says, frowning at the printed lines. She has to turn this situation around to their own favour one hurdle after the other, starting with the red-faced twat poisoning her HQ. She adds a shrug to his benefit and yawns. “It’s all made-up.”

His blond moustache quivers at a puff of his reddened cheeks. “Isn’t that convenient? So yesterday’s article was harmless gossip, and today’s isn’t true at all? Come on, Commander. You know I can’t buy this.”

A knock comes on the door. Hanji closes her eyes, willing it away. Only one problem at a time. First Claudio. Then the reporter. Check on Eren, make sure he’ll be safe. Check with Zackley and Historia. Send word to Armin. Then the loo. Calm Levi down. And coffee. Lots of coffee.

Another knock, a little bit louder this time. 

“Aren’t you going to reply?” Claudio asks.

Hanji opens her eyes. She needs to unbalance Claudio. Find his weak spot and hit it hard. What does he like? Oh, she knows this. The old way. The oppressing way. And rules. Claudio loves them. He also thrives in nurturing his superiority complex by making everyone feel how little they are. She can use this. 

She smiles with a stretch that makes her spine pop, trying not to show how much her head hurts from caffeine deprivation and being jerked awake after sleeping in an unhealthy position. “Aren’t you?” Hanji returns his question. “You are the Colonel, and therefore highest ranked officer here after all. I’m only the Commander.”

He loses his unhealthy colouring of a moment in favour of a delighted beam until it dawns to him she must be as crazy as he always thought. “This is a madhouse,” he mutters, strutting towards the door to open it. “Yes, Cadets.”

A small gasp comes, followed by a young yet fierce voice. “Good morning, Colonel.” 

Harold stands in the entrance, supported by Rita and Mia. All three of them look crestfallen and pale as they salute. While Harold and Mia muster Claudio with careful respect, Rita glares up at him as though asking _ why are you still here? _

“Can we speak to Commander Zoe?” Harold asks.

Hanji shoots them all a beam. It’s not the kids’ fault her day has turned to shit before she even had the chance to wake up. “Cadet Harold,” she says with a welcoming voice, biting her way through the stream of concern, hostility, and surprise flooding her way. “What can we do for you? Do you need another birdcage?”

Claudio, in her peripheral vision, makes a startled sound, and Hanji wants to laugh. People like him are children’s play for her. Add an apparently sudden mood swing to your repertoire, coupled with a pinch of cryptic unpredictability, and they don’t know how to cope anymore, thrown off course. 

“No…I…” Harold’s gaze flits to Claudio before landing back on Hanji. “Is it true Instructor Eren will leave us, Commander?” His eyes are round and big behind his nutshell fringe. “Instructor Sasha said no, but she didn’t explain any further.”

Hanji shakes her head. As if she would let Eren go anywhere. If Claudio had his will, Eren would have died two years ago, and Armin too. He already tried to snatch them out of her protection once. Since then, Hanji wove a net so strong she’ll enjoy watching anyone testing it. 

One day, Claudio will pay. Not today, though. Today, she’ll only make his brain hurt. 

“No, of course not,” she promises as her head catches up with the fact Harold really asks is whether Eren will be leaving the military to work in Levi’s café. “Instructor Eren isn’t leaving.” 

He wouldn’t. Why should he? He loves these kids too damn much, and he’s just as wonderful an Instructor as Hanji ever pictured him to be. Almost better even. Levi must be proud. 

“As charming as Instructor Eren would look in an apron,” she adds, “he wouldn’t leave you even if he had the option. There’s no need to worry.” 

“I told you,” Rita says. “He can’t leave us like this anyway. You have to be discharged from injuries to leave the service without being prosecuted. You know? Like Captain Levi. The article is bullocks anyway. Full of horseshit.”

Such brilliant kids, Hanji thinks, smiling at them. 

“Commander Zoe,” Claudio speaks up as though she needed a reminder he’s infesting her office and threatening her family. 

Hanji pretends she doesn’t hear him. “Why don’t you have some breakfast so you can attend your classes, Cadets? Instructor Eren will be with you soon.” 

“All right. Thank you, Commander,” Harold says.

Rita’s eyes meet hers for a moment, long enough to direct Hanji’s attention to her hands. Her right one performs a brief squeezing gesture over the inside of her left forearm, and Hanji can almost taste Rita’s worry that mingles with her own. Please, she thinks as her finger taps on the ‘December 26th 856’ printed on the Herald. Please, don’t let this be a bad day for him. During the past year, the Titan symptoms were generally mild in comparison to Eren’s eight months on the road, though the end of October was nasty.

If Eren had a bad day now, not only would it be double horrible for him, but Levi would stand at Hanji’s doorstep by evening, demanding answers and most certainly not in a good mood. Though she can handle Levi in protective overflow, she’d rather not today. Not when she could have her fun with the prancing rooster in her office instead. Still, maybe it would be a good idea to check the situation at the Sparrow, even when she can’t go herself. She needs her coffee and her breakfast after all.

“You’re welcome, Cadet Harold,” Hanji says with an upheld smile, though her foot started to act out in concern again, twitching under her chair. “You can come by any time to have a lovely chat. And also, could you send word for Squad Leader Erika? I need her in here. You should find her in her office.” 

Erika will be furious. Knowing her as Hanji does, she must have written through most of the night to settle Claudio’s first and most important demands. She deserves a brief break and quiet breakfast too.

“Yes, Sir,” Harold says.

“We will. Good day, Commander,” Rita says, shooting a last glance at Claudio. To Hanji’s delight, it’s satisfyingly dirty. “Colonel.” 

The three salute and leave. Hanji keeps smiling at the door, relishing the rising nervous energy in the room and congratulating herself when the silence snaps. 

“Can we get back to this matter, Commander?”

“Oh, you’re still here, Colonel.” She inserts a laugh with a shake of her head. “I completely forgot. Please have a seat.”

“I prefer to stand,” Claudio says.

Taking in his expression, Hanji drags in a collecting breath and smiles. Her fingers tingle, yet letting them wriggle now would be too early, so she clenches them into fists in her lap. God, she wants to strangle him. Maybe she can. She should one day, though on the other hand, this would be too easy for Claudio. Fuck, she really wants to kick the shit out of him.

_ Easy, Squad Leader, _ a soft voice says in her head.  _ You got this. Think of the plan. _

The plan. It’s simple enough in its outlines which more or less say ‘Make Claudio suffer for every little one of his sins.’ It’s a wonderful plan, Hanji must admit. 

First, she’ll make him pay for sacking Levi the way he did. Then she’ll make him pay for wanting Eren’s death, Armin’s death, and for thinking it would be for a better cause. After that, she’ll make him pay for her having to lie to Levi for two years before proceeding to make Claudio regret having her witness heartbreak so strong it felt as though it was her own. She’ll also make him pay for having to witness Eren return from the ocean looking so unhappy she did nothing but cry when she was alone that night. Last but not least, Claudio will also have to answer for trying to pursue his Purify Humanity Program that makes him hate everything dear to Hanji and everyone who’s more human than this idiot ever was. In the end, she’ll stand on what’s left on him, squishing him out like the vermin he is.

Satisfied with each and every goal on her list, she broadens her smile. “Can I offer you something to drink, Colonel? You must be thirsty after the shock.”

“I'm not here to be coddled,” he says.

She nods. “No, of course you’re not. You see, though.” She waves the article at him before tossing it back onto her desk. “This is all balderdash.”

“This is the news, Commander Zoe.”

“Exactly!” she cheers, allowing the reaction to spread to her arms as she lets them fly in the air. “It’s bullocks. Last month they declared the Titans were back, and we all know what hogwash that was.”

“The Titans aren’t gone,” Claudio insists, face reddening again. “You made sure of that.”

Feigning humbleness, Hanji cackles. “Oh,  _ I _ did? I don’t know. That’s too much of a praise. I prefer the term joint effort. Also, the Titans are not back, they simply are still here, plus it’s only the shifters who are amongst us. That’s a difference in definition. Do you need a dictionary perhaps? I have one here somewhere.” Inserting a pause, she looks around. “At least I think I do. Would you mind helping me look? I doubt anyone has ever tidied up in here since we moved in. We’re busy with finding a cure, you see?” 

He changes his tactic. “How is it that Eren Yaeger isn’t residing at this headquarters?”

“Why should he when he’s done nothing wrong?” Hanji asks in return. “And when he shows up to work on time, fulfilling all his duties?”

“He’s a soldier. And a damn shifter!” Claudio is spitting. 

Oh, Walls, not this same old story. 

Though Hanji’s head supplies her with twenty different ways to make Claudio shriek with horror so strong he will piss himself during goal number one, she doesn’t bat an eye as she looks at him. “That man is responsible for our ultimate victory and well-earned peace,” she replies, stressing Eren’s humanity.  

“That vermin is a menace. It was clearly placed in Commander Erwin’s instructions when that monster was released to the Survey Corps he would be kept under observation. He was to live at HQ, and sleep in the dungeon’s cell block for safety reasons.”

If Hanji didn’t know any better, she’d say he must be joking. He isn’t, however, and it keeps astonishing her how someone as resistant to the change of times is even able to wipe his own arse. She should ask Historia for a permission to dissect his hateful little brain. Maybe she can learn something from it. 

“Last I checked, Erwin’s been dead for six years, and I'm the Commander now,” she replies in a voice so innocent no one could ever think they’ve already held this discussion multiple times before, and only yesterday. “Zackley also gave Eren freedom from the dungeon after his first mission, plus agreed he deserved an officer's rank just as much as he does the one of an Instructor. So what safety reasons could you possibly mean, Colonel?” 

Another knock on the door right before it opens.

“Commander Zoe.” 

Seizing the opportunity to interrupt Claudio’s counterargument, Hanji smiles towards the door. “Major. What seems to be the problem?”

Tom’s light green eyes look wild. As he spots the high-rank officer glaring back at him, he assumes a stony facade and salutes. “Need help, Commander?” he asks, left hand balled to a fist at his side, his right one twitching towards the dagger in his belt. “We just heard the newspaper is making a mockery of us.”

Claudio’s stare turns ice cold as it roams up and down the man bracing him with a lifted chin.

After being decimated to nine souls in the battle at Shiganshina, the Survey Corps was desperate for new recruits. The branch became less and less popular amongst graduating Cadets, making their future bleak. Hence Hanji and Levi went to Historia with a desperation-driven proposal to fill their roster. Using Levi’s indisputable battle prowess as leverage, they asked for permission to fast-track Underground thugs into the Survey Corps ranks.

A month later, the decree was enacted, stating every man and woman in the Underground City willing to join the Survey Corps would be a free citizen after two years of service. The response was immense and heartening. Training Camps for Manoeuvre Gear shot up like mushrooms after a soaking rain. Within a month the Survey Corps was on its way to being stronger than it had ever been.

Of course, people like Colonel Claudio weren’t pleased with how effective the former thieves proved to be over classically trained Cadets. Winning the war didn’t change their prejudice, nor garner any sympathy. The lingering hatred remained mutual.

“You mean this idiotic thing?” Hanji asks, waves at the paper with a laugh. She can’t have Tom’s men run amok today and needs to divert their attention as far away from her office and stupid talk as possible. “No. Thank you. Check on Harold from year two and make sure they’ve sent Erika to my office, will you? I won’t have any ruckus in the mess hall today or anywhere else because of this, you understand?”

Tom clenches his jaw, yet nods. “Yes, Sir! Anything else?” 

His restlessness is palpable, and Hanji assumes it spreads across the entire Underground squadrons. They would want revenge on Lobelia Schreiber, and so does she. First, they need information, however, and help.

“We need to deliver this month’s due goods to the owing orphanages,” she says. 

Understanding her unspoken message, Tom performs a small gesture with his hand. “Both north?” _Mitras and the press._ He nods. “Already on it.”

At least something goes well today, Hanji thinks. It’s even likely he sent soldiers out to prevent any mayhem amongst his men. 

“Thank you, Major,” Hanji says. “You’re dismissed.”

“Calling back in tonight.” He salutes and leaves. 

Hanji turns to the Colonel again, going into offence before he has any chance to recollect his thoughts and so himself. “Instructor Eren can do as he pleases because Zackley gave permission once we invented the serum. I was never informed about any need of reinstating the original public safety measures. And furthermore, he’s safer with others than anyone else could be.”

“We can’t have him run around in his Titan form freely. And need I remind you he’s carrying multiple Titan souls at that?”

As she’s always been saying. Being impervious to a learning curve and a wealthy, highborn arsehole never is a good combination. 

“But, Colonel,” she says, pursing her lips as if irritated. “You confuse me here. Yesterday you agreed it was fine for him to be in a relationship. He’s at this base, training our Cadets during the days, and during his free time, he is with his former squad leader, Captain Levi. The man who everyone knows is Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.”

“Exactly the problem. Levi's retired.”

“Which we can thank you for.” Hanji smiles as she sits back in her chair. 

Colonel Claudio waves her words off. “He isn’t valuable anymore.” 

Hanji waits for two seconds before she replies with a mock-joyful tone. “How about you say that to his face? Or will you order me to tell him your personal views yet again? Why must you insult an honourable man all over again, like you so kindly made me do the last time?”

“Your relationships are far too friendly with that lot of scoundrels. It was the right decision to let him go because he will always be a thug at heart and Underground scum on top of that. If not for the Queen’s edict, we’d send the lot of thieves back where they belong and be done with it.”

Hanji digs her fingernails into her left knee to remain as calm as she can manage. Oh, that poor idiot has no idea into what kind of a danger zone he’s tapping. “I wasn’t aware off duty friendships had anything to do with the current topic.”

He seems to realise she’s talked him into a corner and starts the discussion from anew. “Why is Eren Yaeger living someplace else when he can still shift?”

“He can’t shift,” Hanji reiterates. “I’ve shown you all the data that proves this article is full of lies. So what's your real problem here?”

“The problem, Commander,” he spits her title, “is that Eren Yaeger needs to be kept somewhere so that the population remains safe from his fifteen-meter form.”

Hanji laughs. “There is no better way in the world to keep Eren from being dangerous than him sleeping in the same place as Levi Ackerman. They have become synonymous with positive change. It’s beautiful to witness.”

Turning a moulted greying purple splotched with bright crimson, he seems to choke on whatever reply his narrow mind can come up with, so Hanji pushes a bit further. 

“I think it is good for everyone to see things change for the better. Don’t you?” 

“But,” he gasps. “This is not the point.”

“No?” she asks, scratching her head in feigned confusion. She can twist his words all day long, and she must admit a part of her enjoys it very much indeed. “How silly of me. Would you mind explaining how the current changes our Queen put into place are not good in a way that I can understand?”

The air leaves his puffed up form as his voice assumes a mellow note. “The point is national security. Levi’s getting old, Commander. All he does these days is pour tea. And might I remind you, everyone knows he’s gotten personally attached to that monster. How can he make the right decision to ensure humanity’s safety when he’s so weakened?”

Weakened! How dare he? Of all the things Claudio could have said about her Levi, it’s this comment that convinces Hanji she’ll make this day hell for him. 

Time to knot his noose, and since stepping into the debate at hand appears pointless, Hanji changes course. If she pokes him enough in the right places, he’ll become recalcitrant and will say things he doesn’t mean since they imply he’d actually have to get his hands dirty with work. He likes his position in Mitras, whilst loathing her and the people in this place. Yet he loves making others feel small by playing the mighty superior card far more. 

So Hanji throws him a bone. “Why are we even talking about this when we settled everything last night? You agreed on their relationship being nothing the military needs to interfere with. I thought it was doing the community good to make an exception with the living arrangements.”

“Good! Ha! The other soldiers aren’t allowed to leave the barracks. Why should Eren Yaeger be granted preferential treatment without Supreme Commander Zackley’s prior authorization?” He points at her, performing a small complacent bounce on his feet. “I can relieve you of duty until we uncover the truth of this newspaper article, Commander Zoe!”

Wonderful. See? Easy.

“Oh. So you’re volunteering to take over direct care of Eren’s health problems and running the Survey Corps from now on?” Hanji grabs her desk key from her jacket pocket and yanks Eren and Armin’s respective file stacks from the large bottom drawer. She dumps everything onto the desktop with a flourish and a thud. “Here you go, Colonel. Congratulations on your new role. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“This…” He takes half a step back though seems to catch himself. “This is not about me taking over those weapons’ maintenance,” he stammers. Mild panic flares as visible tension across his entire body. “My job is to make certain he doesn’t hurt civilians.”

“Well since you’re relieving me of duty, it is now.” Pleased with herself, Hanji stretches her arms high above her head and leans back in her chair as she works up to her coup de grace. “Eren Yaeger, by your definition, is a weapon, and weapons are always necessary assets. Of course in Eren’s case, he’s a weapon with a very specific maintenance schedule as an important military asset. 

“So I suppose I’ll have to explain how to keep him maintained due to mental instability caused by shell shock, the side effects he has because of being injected with Marley’s Titan serum and carrying eight sources. Those side effects include fever, nausea, dizziness, nosebleeds, migraine fits, strangers’ memories, and occasional yet mild personality switches when he’s sick or distressed. Oh, and he also has random moments of near-blind rage if he becomes upset enough. Ever heard his roar, Colonel? It’s beautiful.”

Mouth agape, Claudio stares at the massive stack of folders, and Hanji shrugs, releasing a long, content sigh she doesn’t have to pretend to feel. 

“Armin Arlert suffers from similar symptoms, which is why he spends so much time outside the walls doing surveys. Haven’t you read the reports, Colonel? You should know about our ongoing efforts and schedules to minimize problems that could make either of our living weapons dangerous. But what am I even asking? You must have been busy gathering troops to detain Eren and Armin. No wonder these scientific verified reports slipped through your office without you noticing. Should I explain the Titan symptoms anew?”

His eyes blink in a frenzy, flitting between her and the folders on her desk. How Hanji loves it when people can’t follow her talk and only process the hidden insults once she is far gone and done with them. 

“As you know from the gagging order you signed, our developed serum keeps the Titan sources under control,” she continues. “This includes the shifting and the lifespan issue caused by growing cell structures similar to cancer. Still, the medication doesn’t get rid of all the symptoms entirely. And before you ask, no, an increased frequency of giving the dosage is not advisable. We tried that before Levi retired. It was discovered that larger or more frequent doses enhance the negative symptoms, which is why we settled on 50 milligrams once a month until a better cure can be made. The two soldiers in question keep very concise records of their injections and all their major symptoms.” She smiles. “For all our safety.”

She lets the following silence drag out, waiting for the perfect moment to proceed. “Good!” she says, cutting Claudio off and interrupting his trail of thoughts again. “It’s all said then. Where do I need to sign? Because I don’t know about you, Colonel, but I definitely need a vacation.” 

She snorts, rolling her eyes before releasing another sigh. “Ah, this will be great. Think of what I could do in that time. I could catch up with some old friends again. I haven’t seen the Queen for a while, now that I think of it. I wonder how she’s doing.”

Claudio chews on his moustache as a vein bulges on his forehead. His hands open and close at his sides, his jaw is grinding. “You’ve not been relieved of duty yet, Commander.”

“All right then.” Hanji brightens her smile. “In this case, I should inform you my choice to let Eren reside in a private home is a well-considered choice. The symptoms in Eren Yaeger’s case are fewer these days, and hence the safety you so clearly are concerned about more insured. At least that’s how it is when he is under former Captain Levi’s surveillance, who proved himself trustworthy to Supreme Commander Zackley long ago. Queen Historia likewise has great faith in Levi’s abilities to keep things calm. This, of course, is in the reports too, if you would be so kind as to double check. 

“So, Colonel. Shall we discuss what to do with Eren’s residency requirements when he’s more agitated living here at HQ than when he lives in the same place as Levi Ackerman?”

He stares at her for a moment, lips sealed tight, jaw still working, eyes narrowing. “I will investigate their living arrangements, on top of everything else,” he agrees at last. “I want full and detailed reports from former Captain Levi, Eren Yaeger, and yourself. New ones. I will have the Residency Requirements for Eren Yeager and the Declaration of Obedience I ordered for this week signed by all three of you today. I will interview Instructor Eren myself with no further delay, so have him sent here right away. Me and my men will also check more thoroughly on his colleagues and his Trainees. And I need full disclosure on this ongoing Titan shifting issue.”

“You must have such an interesting life with that perception of yours,” Hanji commiserates with a pitying shake of her head, not giving him any time to process her words. “It’s all here.” She pats the large stack of folders, repeating herself yet again. “We can’t extinguish the Titan because it is a military asset, or we wouldn’t have this discussion to begin with. And he can't shift. Neither of them can. Not under the serum’s influence.”

“How do we know this for certain?”

“If you don’t look at the scientific facts, you can’t,” she admits. “He’s only been able to shift if he wanted to with a specific goal in mind before we made the serum. The serum disrupts the process, at least in theory, so forcing him to shift won't do. You'll have to trust my account. And the study reports you just mentioned. You can try to demand a detailed report from Levi, but he’s not under your command any longer, and with him having done nothing wrong, you can’t force him to. You should have a talk with,” she motions at the article, “Lobelia Schreiber, however, and ask her for her source of information on how it is that Eren or Armin can still shift. You’ll find out it’s not reliable.”

Claudio sneers. “Oh, and you are?”

Hanji lifts her chin and pierces him with her stare as she replies with a voice as cold and sharp as a shard of ice. “I am the head of this department. You will trust my judgement, as you will trust my dutiful and various reports. I showed results. I detected the effect of blue bellflowers. I lead us to victory. If you can’t trust me as a person, you can trust me as a soldier, a Commander, and a servant of our people. Plus, you decided you will not take over my job, so you let me keep my position but you don’t find me reliable? I wonder what Supreme Commander Zackley would say to that.”

Somewhere down the corridor, someone yells, followed by a brisk female voice barking an order and silence. A moment later, the door opens after a firm rhythmic knock. “Squad Leader Erika calling in for duty.” She looks as unamused as predicted and as tired too. 

“Erika!” Hanji beams at the trustworthy face. “I require your assistance today. Due to today’s news, we need to gather some new reports and urgent signatures. Most and foremost by former Captain Levi about his living with Eren Yaeger.”

Erika scowls, and Hanji nods at her guest. “Colonel Claudio will inform you what exactly is needed right away before we will discuss further measures together. Or would you prefer talking to Levi yourself, Colonel?”

Claudio pales, then crimsons again, but Hanji doesn’t let him talk. “Well, you don’t have much time anyway, do you? Important man that you are.” She turns to Erika again. “We also need Eren Yaeger here, as you know. He is supposed to teach year two this morning. Let Instructor Connie take over and send Eren to meet us immediately. It’s about our people’s safety. No need to make him worried though.” 

_ No need to tell him everything, _ she silently conveys.

Getting the hint, Erika nods. “Will do, Commander.”

“And while you’re in town, fetch a proper breakfast for our guest.” 

Erika’s gaze darts to Hanji’s restless hand fiddling with her pen, then lifts an eyebrow. “Best bagels and coffee in town, Commander?”

“Yes,” Hanji cheers. “Thank you, Erika. Would you take the empty thermos with you?” She rummages in her desk drawers for the long emptied flask to hand it over.

“Roger.” Erika takes the thermos, salutes, and addresses Claudio. “What kind of documents do you need, Sir? Join me in my office for a few minutes, so I can take proper notes.”

_ Thank you, _ Hanji mouthes at her as Erika guides a bristling, yet nodding, Claudio out of the door. “I’ll be waiting for you here, Colonel,” she says out loud. 

The door closes, and Hanji manages to silently count to thirteen before she jumps to her feet with a yell. “Arsehole!” 

It’s not enough. 

She stomps her foot and shakes her agitated, tingling hands before she buries them in her hair with frustrated pulls. Then her eyes spot the empty mug on her desk, and loathing the goddamn thing from the bottom of her heart, she hurls it against the next best wall where it crashes into pieces with a satisfying bang. “Fucking arsehole!” 

The anger lasts until Eren comes to her mind, who’ll probably be on his way to HQ now, not suspecting what he’ll walk into. Hanji wanted to protect him from having to encounter Claudio’s worst hatred first hand, and she can only hope he won’t find out about how close to execution he and Armin have been all along. The plan was to let him and Levi in on what she’s been keeping from them ever since the war ended after they were settled in their new relationship, and then deal with this together. This, however, she thinks as her fingers twitch for the newspaper in a desperate urge to tear it up, this thwarts her whilst bringing everyone she loves into danger. Well, all but one. 

“I wish you were here, Moblit,” she says, allowing her this one moment of weakness before erecting an armour of cool, composed control. At least on the outside. 

Then her bladder reminds her of nature’s call, and she hurries into the bathroom, her mind racing to compile a list of everything she has to do before the day is over. When her thoughts arrive at the Sparrow, she grimaces at more than the mere loss of missing out on today’s morning coffee in the comforting round of her family. 

No matter how much she’ll be able to help Eren with his upcoming interrogation or not, one thing is for certain. Levi will be pissed.


	3. Cake

Of course, the article in the paper is the topic of the day. 

Despite the frosty morning temperatures, Levi’s first customers crowd the area in front of the Sparrow’s entrance five minutes before opening time. Some curious noses press against the breath-fogging glass in their owners’ hope to catch a glimpse at the inside of the café, causing Eren to chuckle and Levi to scowl at their sight. 

“I just cleaned the windows.” 

“When haven’t we?” Eren says with an eye-twinkling grin across the counter. 

Levi’s conceding snort ends in a sigh. “It will be a pain to get their frozen snot off the glass.”

Shrugging, Eren empties his cup with herbal infusion. “I can do it.”

“You have to go to work,” Levi replies. “Better get out of here before they pester you. Seems like they’re proliferating.” 

Eren gives a brief huff somewhere between a laugh and a defeated exhale as he stands. “Should I take Hanji’s breakfast with me?” 

“No, maybe she’s only late,” Levi says. “She sends someone over when she can’t make it. Maybe she fell asleep at her desk again and missed her regular time.” 

Accompanying Eren to the door, he scrutinises him in an attempt to find out whether he is as fine as he said after breakfast. “Sure you’re all right?” 

“Yup. Everything good.” Eren smiles, elbow brushing against Levi’s in gentle reassurance. 

It takes a squealed “They’re so cute!” from the other side of the window front to finally make Eren glower at the gawkers and ball his fists.

“The fuck!” 

Levi smirks. “I’ll deal with the lookie-loos,” he says, ignoring the yelled “kiss!” and thinking Big Dave can count himself lucky Levi isn’t one to spit into his coffee. Or worse.

Eren’s green eyes glint with mischief alongside a last covert brush of fingers that makes Levi’s heart skip a beat. “What a pity the door swings the wrong way, huh? We could smash a few faces.” 

Granting Eren a snort before putting on an underwhelmed bored expression, Levi turns the doorknob, opening the café to excited chatter that now escalates into exuberant cheers as the crowd justles forward. Eren stills in the entrance, stopped by a wall of people.

“There they are! Captain Levi. You must be so happy.”

“Instructor Eren! Is it true? Such a wonderful surprise.”

“Congratulations!” 

“Happy belated birthday!”

“Move on,” Levi says with a commanding push against Eren’s lower back and raises his voice. “Opening early!” he announces, making use of the Sparrow’s tempting toastiness to lure the shivering people in while Eren pushes his way through. “Everyone inside.” 

Satisfied the patrons take the bait instead of badgering Eren with their excitement, Levi watches him stride down the street. A tall, lanky soldier with broad shoulders and a strong lively pace. His face turned towards the sky. Then Levi flaps the sign in the door to ‘open,’ and tends to the enthused mob in his café. 

“Now who wants a coffee?”

 

*

 

It doesn’t take Levi a full hour to be sick of all the talk. 

It helps most of his customers know him well enough to not believe the rubbish in the news, yet there is no escape from the wild mixture of jubilance, indignation, and curiosity. All of which is coupled with experience-fuelled pieces of advice Levi never asked for.

“What a silly article,” Kornelius declares. “Titan tux? Don’t make me laugh! You have to wear tuxedos, though. Brings bad luck if you don’t, Captain. On my cousin John’s wedding…” 

What follows is a well-known report on a celebration that ended in bad blood. The entire town remembers the day Lars stormed out of his wedding toast in tears, ending his short first marriage with a devastated John by having very public sex with one of the best men. 

Lars and David are wed for seven years now, have adopted a pair of siblings and a goldfish, and run a successful sweets shop in Trost. No bad luck for Lars.

Musing whether it would be too inappropriate to point that out, Levi pours coffee, picturing Eren pushing the café door open the wrong way, right into Kornelius’ face with a cocky  _ whoops!  _

Smiling inwardly at the image, Levi humours Kornelius’ retellings with an absent-minded scowl and takes a sip of tea. 

Ten hours until bookkeeping night. Levi can’t wait.

When Scara arrives around nine to pick up the laundry basket, she glows with excitement. “Congratulations, Captain Levi! I was so thrilled when I read the news today, but I swear I’ve been saying it must happen any day now. You must be so happy. After you waited so long? And that on your birthday. How did Eren propose? Did he kneel down? I bet he did, didn’t he? Ahh, this is so exciting!” She claps and hops on the spot. 

Her left arm stretches towards Levi before she retrieves it, clutching it to her chest with a flushed face. “Would you mind showing me your hand? I’d love to see your ring, it must be so beautiful. Or do you wear arm cuffs? They’re so sexy! Will you really marry in May? Such a gorgeous month. It will be too soon for having glowflies at night but the roses are already blooming then and–” 

“No wedding,” Levi cuts her off before she can talk herself into whatever sentimental fantasy she has in mind. “And I don’t have a ring. Or an arm cuff. We both don’t.”

“No wedding?” Scara visually deflates, brow creasing and greenish-brown eyes darkening. “But this can’t be right. You must! You are engaged.” 

“No,” Levi says, crossing his arms. “We’re not.”

“But…why?”

Levi gives her a stern if mild look. “It’s too soon.”

She cocks her head, hands resting on her hips. “It’s never too soon when you love each other. Auntie Gladys always says to follow your heart, and she has never been wrong. Don’t you know how to ask? You’re older than Eren, so you should probably be the one to do it anyway. Maybe he’s too timid since you were his Captain once. I bet he’s too intimidated to ask.”

Blindsided by the mere idea of a timid, not to mention intimidated, Eren, Levi realises his mouth fell open when Scara nods, clearly having taken his silence for a yes.

“You should start with the jewellery, Captain,” she says with a sigh. “That’s how people usually do it. Do you know the goldsmith? Oh, you must. Everyone knows Kaspar. Anyway, he’s my uncle in-law’s cousin. He’d give you a good deal.”

“Scara,” Levi says, mind speeding in his search for the right words to fend off any goldsmith’s good deal. “We don’t do jewellery.”

Instead of looking cross or disappointed, Scara laughs. “You’re so funny!” She giggles, performing a waving movement with her hand, and taking a moment to compose herself. “Everybody does jewellery,” she insists. “You and Eren deserve your special day too. Everybody here would be thrilled to help wherever we can.”

A brief snort escapes Levi. “I don’t doubt it.”

The cynicism doesn’t do anything, except making Scara nod with earnest ardour. “You know what? I’ll tell Kaspar to come here in person. He can advise you much better than I can anyway.” She sighs, looking glum for a moment before straightening up again. “So. Laundry?”

“Yes,” Levi says. “It’s more than usual.”

“So you really are living together? Aww.” 

Taking in her starry-tuning gaze as she beams at him, Levi silently thanks the invention of counters between the café owner and their customers. They’re a much-needed barrier. 

At least the first flood of customers has abated to tend to their daily errands. Though they will return soon enough, Scara’s zeal remains unsupported for now. 

“Yes,” Levi says, handing her the basket. “We do live together. You’ll get a raise, of course.”

She shakes her head as she props the load onto her hip with a smile. “You two are too kind. Say hello to Eren from me. I’ll bring this back on Wednesday. As usual.” The door tinkles behind her parting figure, with her steps light and her long dark hair billowing like a flag in a gust of wind. 

Levi’s mildly exasperated smile falls when his eyes catch Erika stomping up to the door while Scara places the laundry basket into her small cart. A powerful shove sends the bells squawking alongside door hinges protesting from the abnormal strain. 

The way Erika stalks to the counter, teeth clenched, plucking at an ink-stained cuff, eyes darting around the café, Levi braces himself for a frustrated rant. Erika was transferred into the Survey Corps from the Garrison after the Shiganshina massacre to take over administration duties from the retired head officer. She is a level-headed woman, and a fine Squad Leader. Seeing her so angry means something serious is afoot.

“For the love of god, please tell me some real news that isn’t local drama, Levi. I need it. I need it now!” 

Levi grants her a commiserating sigh as he fills a coffee cup. “Norman sent over new nut-filled pastries. He’s requested people give him feedback. Cherry pie’s going faster than normal.”

Throwing herself onto one of the bar stools, Erika heaves a deep breath and reaches for the proffered cup. “When isn’t his cherry pie divine? But all right. Must have a piece of it before it’s gone. I’m surprised he’s not run out on the tinned fruit. Give me one of his new nut concoctions too. And I meant real news about you and Eren.”

“Nothing’s new.” Levi shrugs, taking a plate to the food display. He slides a larger slice of cherry pie onto the dessert plate and grabs one of the small test pastries to set closer to the edge. “How’s things at HQ?”

“Raging with gossip, and panicking Cadets thanks to this morning’s bullshit article,” Erika growls. She snares a napkin as Levi sets her plate before her. “Place is swarming like a threatened beehive. Zackley’s damned lap dog woke up to that stupid newspaper and has lost his little wall-cursed mind.”

The unfathomable alarm that has been simmering in his guts since breakfast flares up, leaving Levi’s back cold. “Claudio’s here?” The statement comes out as a hiss.

Erika nods. “Yup. Arrived yesterday to inquire about Eren moving in with you. Then this pack of lies was in the paper this morning. Now Tom and his men are ready to backslide into murdering capital-born pigs. Claudio’s hassling pretty much everyone you give a damn about, Captain. Can’t say I blame Tom’s group for being furious. Fool’s got the Commander trapped in her office, demanding triplicate forms of everything by the end of today.” She groans at the prospect with a roll of her eyes.

“My penmen are scrambling to copy everything that toadying buffoon is demanding us to transcribe. In short, he’s throwing his weight around and acting a right belligerent arse to everyone. I’ve been writing non-stop since yesterday afternoon. The Colonel wanted a contract signed by Eren, Commander Hanji, and yourself stating Eren was still in the Corps, and would be under surveillance while living here for the public’s safety. Now, the contract I wrote in triplicate last night is probably going to become a waste of ink and time thanks to that inflammatory article. This is my first break aside from a few hours of sleep. The Commander didn’t look much better. She’s the reason I’m here by the way. Needs her breakfast.”

“Mm,” Levi says, thoughts tumbling over. 

Claudio is in town. No wonder Hanji hasn’t been here for her breakfast this morning. Hanji must be having a hellish day. With Claudio harassing her, she’s lucky if she manages to get rid of him by afternoon, just as Eren. 

Levi stares at the remains of Earl Grey in his cup. “Seems my place is the source of all the evil.” 

Scorn ghosts over Erika’s face. “To hear the Colonel tell it, you’re a washed up has been and Eren’s already got the ultimate evil’s job. So does Armin for that matter. The only evil I see inside the Walls is that two-faced reporter.” She flashes teeth while unwrapping the heavy scarf from her dirty blonde head. “Don’t you want to tell me how magnificent your non-existent engagement rings are? Maybe accompanied by a gasped ‘oh, Erika, you must know!’” Her eyelashes flutter as she clutches her scarf to her chest.

Levi sets his cup down and inserts a hum. Considering the dangerous gleam in Erika’s eyes, she’s far from done with her venting.

She pulls a face so bitter it jerks her whole body. “Some people are so dumb, even inside our military branch. I mean, seriously. They killed Titans for a living, but now several veterans are panicking our Cadets in the mess hall. For no good reason. Worst of all are the gush and swoon fucking school girls crowd. And yes, the younger men are the worst of the lot this morning. Thank the Walls for your old Squad and Tom’s people because they know that article’s full of shit and are saying as much.”

Scowling, Levi reaches for the glass with cream to dole out a generous dab onto Erika’s pie. She’ll need the fat’s soothing effect. “I thought gossip brightens people’s days.”

“Not when it’s all lies, it don’t. Sure doesn’t make my day. Not with the top brass in a lather and looking to revise all the Shifter Directives to lock Eren and Armin up to prevent any backlash among the citizens.” 

Running footsteps come to a halt in front of the café right before the door bangs open and a tall, black-haired man with heated-red face pokes his head into the Sparrow. “Is Ada here?” he pants. Then he seems to recollect himself. “Oh! I’m so sorry. Hello, Captain Levi. Erika.” 

While Erika offers a quiet wave with her cup of coffee still in mid-air, Levi lifts an eyebrow. “Something the matter, Carl?” 

Carl’s chest heaves as he gasps for air. “No, nothing to worry about.” His hand rubs his sides. “Did you see Ada by any chance?” 

“Check Magda’s,” Desiree’s strong voice comes from the back before Levi can answer. “She was on her way there not half an hour ago.”

Exhaling, Carl smiles. “Thank you, Dee!” his hand claps against the door that is in his grip, sending in cool air. “See you soon, Captain.” He beams. “Oh! Congratulations on the upcoming wedding, by the way. Such exciting news. I already talked to my brother in law. He’ll make you a good deal for his ale come the celebrations. I’ll come back again to talk things through. Got to see Ada first.”

Nodding, Levi holds back a sigh. “Carl.”

The door falls shut, and Carl’s figure disappears in a rush as he hurries off. 

“I swear this world has lost its marbles today,” Erika muses with a shake of her head. Then she meets Levi’s eyes with a warm grin. “Mind if I come by again later to watch? This is so much more entertaining than any theatre play. Not that I’ve got time for that either. Could work here though once the drafts are done. Better than with Claudio breathing down my neck. The board is better here at any rate.” 

Levi manages a brief snort as he adds an extra spoon of clotted cream to her piece of pie. “So Hanji and Eren are busy all day?” he asks.

Erika nods through a gulp of coffee. “The Commander is trying to put out the flames. Seems Colonel High Society overheard some of our people arguing about why Eren is allowed to leave the military without giving any notice. Even if he hasn’t left at all.” She snaps her fingers. “Oh, the first of Claudio’s spies arrived last night too, so they’ll be snooping around town for a while. I’ve already seen a couple outsiders, so be ready. Figure this new article will bring a lot more of them around here today too.”

Levi scoffs, the cream crockery still in his hands. Of course, Zackley and Claudio would send their henchmen to Levi instead of setting a single foot into the Sparrow. 

“Bet Zackley already read about Eren’s apparent retirement this morning too,” Erika continues. “Claudio is throwing an unholy fit about Eren’s supposed Titan Wedding to come thanks to today’s lovely newspaper. Lies aside, Zackley’s got to be raging mad over such a lurid story. And that’s what they call nationwide news. It’s turning the military into a laughing stock.”

Levi gives another affirmative hum while Erika bites into the corner of the nut pastry. She closes her eyes with a sigh and by the time she opens them again, she smiles.

“With the new article circulating, it looks like the Colonel is going to continue swaggering around the grounds, giving crazy orders, and asking questions. He already planned to, but this today really set him off to a whole new level. He’s demanding to know why Eren can shift, despite all the reports to the contrary and the gagging orders he had to sign regarding the full importance of the serum. Bet he hasn’t even read half of them. Plus, the Colonel already said the higher ups don’t much like the idea of Eren living here. Seems he hates the idea you’re attached to Eren too. Damned idiots.”

"Leave it to Historia,” Levi says. With Claudio disturbing HQ and with it the people responsible for her coronation, it’s only a matter of time until she’ll hear of it and decide to intervene. “She’s no idiot."

“Very true.” Erika nods and sets the nut pastry aside to reach into her inside jacket pockets, expression turning serious. “Speaking of idiots. I’m here mostly because for the Commander, but Claudio sent this list of questions and instructions for you to read over and sign the last page. It’s the soon to be waste of time and effort on my part thanks to this morning.” She hands Levi an envelope with an apologetic grimace. “Expect another packet complete with some fancy declaration for you to sign once I’m done with everything else he’s going to request today. Colonel’s already started setting it up with Hanji and Eren as we speak.”

After snatching the envelope out of her hand, Levi opens it, unfolds the stack of paper from within, and glares at the content. 

‘Residency Requirements for Eren Yeager,’ reads the headline, followed by a two-page list of ludicracy in Erika’s neat handwriting. 

His fingers tighten around the paper. It’s by sheer effort of will he manages to keep it from crumpling. “Claudio did this shit?”

“Yup. It gets better though.” Erika jerks her chin at the stack of paper in his hands. “Page three.”

Heart sinking, Levi leafs to the final page and scowls at the document titled ‘Declaration of Obedience to the Military and the People of Paradis in a Situation of Titan Threat.’

His blood seethes when he’s finished reading, mingling with frost when he spots the two familiar signatures below, Hanji’s on the left and Eren’s to its right in the middle of the paper. Whereas Hanji’s writing is as scrawly as ever, Eren’s lines left distinct pressure markings on the paper and a rare blotch of ink where the pen’s feather must have snapped. Levi’s thumb traces the blue lines of Eren’s name, and as the full meaning sinks in, Levi lets the document drop onto the counter as though it was poisonous.

_ I don’t want to die, _ Eren’s voice sounds in his head.  _ Not anymore.  _

Eren signed this, however, and though Levi knows they both agree on this matter, the mere existence of this document is an insult and an attack on them both. And Hanji by extension.

“Whatever you do,” Erika says. “We’ve got your back on this. The Colonel also wanted to make you write a report, but since you aren’t an officer anymore, thanks to no one but himself, he can’t order you to do it. He still can give you a list of safety instructions and a hard time from a safe distance though. Eren’s still in the military, and we both know Claudio loves to put on a strongman act every chance he gets.”

Levi barely listens to her, ears ringing as he takes his pen out of his apron’s pocket. He stares at the angry pressure markings Eren left alongside his name, and signs himself, careful his numb finger touch the vile paper as little as possible before shoving it back to Erika. 

She nods in relief and stuffs it back into the envelope. “He should be grateful you’re not there anymore,” she says. “You’d have ripped him apart right there. What he said about Eren…” Her teeth clench in a scowl and she waves with the declaration before storing it out of sight. “Thank you for this. It will make things easier.”

Ordering his hands to remain steady, Levi screws his pen closed. “Just make him leave. I don’t care how.” He searches her eyes, silently adding,  _ I’ll help where I can. _

Erika nods. “We do our best, Captain. He’s been pissing people off since the moment he set foot into town yesterday. I wish him luck though.” Her eyes twinkle with sudden mischief. “The Commander also sent me here for her daily fix. That woman is scary as fuck without her morning dose of your coffee. Claudio’s pushing her buttons. I bet she’ll have his brain twisted into a pitiful excuse for a pretzel by the time I get back.”

Humming, Levi folds Eren’s ‘Residence Requirements’ back together and adds them to his pile of bills for the café. “She wants her usual breakfast?”

Erika nods. “Yup. For her and Lap Dog.”

After fetching Hanji’s prepared care package, Levi regards the meagre meal and clenches his jaw. Once Hanji gets busy, she won’t eat enough, and she’s already far too thin. The wrapped-up bagel with butter isn’t near enough to get her through the day. Coffee isn’t a substitute for real food and sleep. The latter is out of the question, thanks to Claudio’s presence. Until the lies of today’s news article are exposed, Hanji’s going to throw herself into working around the clock, forgetting to eat and rest, and Eren… Eren will need more than his regular rations too.

Levi’s fingers tap on the counter. The café is almost empty, except for Erika, Simone’s twins, and three Garrison regulars sitting at the window. It won’t stay like this for long. Not with today’s newspaper drawing the customers in as though Levi was giving away the coffee and food for free. If he wants to ensure Hanji and Eren eat enough, he’s got to act now. 

“Keep watch for a minute, will you?” 

At Erika’s affirmative hum, Levi fetches one of the empty caddies from the staff department and darts up the stairs. He rinses the caddie, fills it with a generous serving of Eren’s stew from the night before, and grabs the almost empty butter dish. 

Back downstairs he puts the stew-filled caddie onto the counter. “Make sure Hanji will eat all of this today,” Levi orders Erika.

“Will do.” Erika grins. “I’m surprised it’s still so quiet in here.”

“You missed round one. And better not praise the day yet,” Levi says, nodding to the window front.

“True,” Erika says, narrowing her eyes at a small gathering of people standing across the street, nodding and gesturing toward the café. 

Levi reaches for several bagels in the display and smears one with his remaining butter and some goat curd as he speaks. “Stew’s better when heated, but I doubt she’ll notice.” He places the buttered bagel on a wax paper, adds one of Norman’s new nut pastries and wraps them together before placing the parcel on top of the caddie. “This is for Eren.” He wraps two dry bagels into a third bundle to complete the pile. “And these are for Zackley’s lap dog.”

Erika grins and imitates a woof alongside a snarl, yet packs the wrapped packages into her rucksack.

Levi is wiping the bagel crumbs off the counter when a muffled “you go in and ask him,” and a “no, you go first,” come in from the street before a pair in Military Police uniforms shoves each other towards the entrance. The door bell tinkles. After glancing around the Sparrow with curious eyes, the officers still and shoot Levi a set of smiles so blatantly engaging Erika snorts. 

“Good luck, guys,” she mutters into her coffee. 

“You’re Captain Levi?” asks one of the soldiers. Crimson is standing high on her cheeks. 

Levi holds back a sigh. The question is getting old. “Well, I’m certainly not your mother, am I?” he replies, keeping his gaze cool and challenging. “What do you want?” 

“I…” The second soldier wipes his hands and after some humming and hawing manages: “Um…we heard you’ve got coffee?” 

Erika chews on a piece of nut creation as she turns on her chair to give him a lookover. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you? Upper class?”

A pearl of sweat runs down his temple. “I…um.”

“Coffee,” Levi says as he fills two cups. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks,” the second soldier stammers, and he and his friend flee to one of the tables in a corner with a whispered “that Titan isn’t here too, is he?” countered by a sharp “shh!”

Levi has a feeling they’ll stay here all morning.

“He’s probably at the base, you doofus,” the first soldier mumbles. “The Colonel wanted to talk to him today, remember?” 

“Idiot wimps,” Erika huffs. 

Levi refills her coffee before he starts on Hanji’s extra strong one. She’ll need the caffeine.

As he waits for the water to boil, his thoughts trail off. He’d hoped he could talk to Hanji about Eren’s symptoms first thing in the morning, yet with the whole military being in uproar, it'’s doubtful he’ll see her before evening. If at all today. By then she’ll be worn out from the endless interrogations by Claudio and his men. 

Eren will probably be exhausted by the time he comes home too. Fortunately, there’s still enough rabbit stew left for dinner, even with Hanji’s portion aside. 

Levi’s eyes wander to the window, into the direction of HQ. 

“Seen Eren himself by any chance?” he asks with tap on the counter. 

“Oh yeah.” Erika chuckles. “He’s with Claudio now, but doing fine as far as I can tell. Looked good, if furious. Last thing I heard right before I left was that he was at loggerheads with one of the blokes who was butthurt about not knowing Eren moved in here on Friday.”

“That so?” Levi asks. They must have more or less doorstepped Eren when he came in in the morning to catch him before his classes. 

“Apparently,” she continues with a wink, “Oliver said he’d have wanted to throw our Eren a proper farewell party. Of course, Eren pointed out Oliver never liked him anyway and was only looking for an excuse to cane in and brown-nose simultaneously. And yeah, guess what?” She nods, dark blue eyes twinkling. “Oliver wasn’t pleased. He chickened out of it before Eren could throw him one though, luckily for him and for me, I’d say. Would have been a shame to miss out on that show.”

Filling the freshly brewed coffee into one of the thermos flasks he bought for Hanji emergencies like this, Levi shakes his head. “He’s always been a moron.” 

“That’s what I thought. Fucking bigot too if you ask me. I actually wonder why Floche hasn’t backed him up. He’s usually the first to rile Eren up with idiotic nonsense like this.” 

“Mm.” 

Chairs move at the back as Dennis and Desiree stand to collect their empty dishes before they approach Levi.  

“Time for us to get to work,” Dennis says as he places the full tea service on the brass counter. “Mum’s waiting for us, though I wouldn’t mind staying longer for one of those nut pastries. Norman already told us he’d have an idea for something new, but this was fabulous beyond my wildest dreams.”

Knowing he won’t get a word in edgeways until Dennis is finished, Levi hums. Simone’s children are much like their mother and grandparents. The three-generation run pub stays open late to cater to the other store owners in their area. The two of them have been chattering in the back of the Sparrow for over half an hour, as though they wouldn’t see each other and talk all day. 

“The coffee was damn fine again too.” Dennis gives the whispering pair of Military Police Soldiers a look over his shoulder before he speaks on. “Don’t you let this morning’s balderdash get you down, Captain. We know Eren and you wouldn’t dream of holding such a fool sounding wedding. You both have more common sense than to be putting on such airs." 

“Yes, indeed,” his sister adds. “Liars don’t get far, so you and Eren just ignore these.” She hands over their dessert plates and cutlery while Dennis produces a purse. “No one believes them anyways around here. Everyone knows Eren can’t shift. I don’t even know why the papers would print stuff like that. But I’ve been saying it all morning, and I’ll stick to my words: They’ll get what they deserve for making up such nonsense.”

“Even if I’ll have to make sure of that myself,” Erika grumbles. 

Levi can’t help but share her sentiment. “We’ll see,” he says as he sets the used dishes aside. 

Wrapping her scarf around her head, Desiree smiles. “Ah, I know it. It will all work out well.” Her mud green eyes give him a brief scanning, checking his left hand and upper arms before twinkling with curiosity. “Though I must say, we’re surprised you don’t have a ring. Nor a bracelet or something similar. Is it because you aren’t engaged yet or because do you stick to wedding symbols without the tacky betrothal drama? Or don’t you want any at all? Because you should get something.”

Dennis nods with ardent zeal as his eyebrows draw together in concern. “We thought you wouldn’t want to waste any time with Eren. Is he against marriage? Some are, though we can’t have that in your case. You deserve it. Imagine all the fancy celebrations you could have and–”

“Of course, Eren wants to marry him, Dennis, why wouldn’t he?” Desiree interrupts her brother with a snort, cutting off Levi’s insistent reply it’s too soon to talk about marriage. She rolls her eyes with a grin before she looks at Levi. 

He forces a smile, feeling prickly energy spread through his body. It’s not even noon, and he already counts down the hours until the endless conversing will experience a break. It was easier to endure the wedding talk yesterday with Eren at his side, laughing most questions and silly ideas off whilst ignoring the others.

Levi’s hands grab for a towel to polish the counter while Desiree speaks on.

“There are some good jewellery options out there, you know?” she says. “Kaspar surely can help you if you’re uncertain. You should talk to him at any rate. He made most of what you see around town here, and it’s all so stylish. He can fix old stuff you might have real nice too. Mum has a ring that needs maintaining every now and then, and he always does excellent work.”

“Yeah, that swan ring Dad gave her at the fair,” Dennis says with a reminiscing nod while his fingers fasten around his coat lapels. “It was crafted badly, and the neck’s a weak spot. Breaks off sometimes. Grandma says she should finally get it fixed proper since it needs repairing every couple years. But Mum wouldn’t. Says she prefers it pretty and fragile as he gave it to her over having it changed.” 

“Oh, this reminds, me,” Desiree chimes in with a wide smile. “We should say hi from her. Why don’t you and Eren pop in for dinner some time? We haven’t had you over in too long, Levi. It must be going on a year ago. I bet Mum would love to whip you up a nice meal.”

Accepting the new topic, Levi hums. Eren would love the place, and Hanji would be thrilled to go there again too. She’d dragged Levi there once during one of their Friday nights before the Sparrow opened and swooned over Simone’s tender pork ribs in marinade.

“We’ll keep it in mind,” he replies. 

The twins beam, and Dennis performs a small bounce on his heels. “You won’t regret it, Captain. Just give word, and we’ll arrange you have a nice private table for your own. Maybe with some candles?” 

“You read too many romance novels, Dennis,” Desiree teases with a fond shake of her head. “You’ll never end up with someone sensible if this continues.”

He blushes. “I do not! Anyway. We’ve got lots of game these days, Captain.” 

“The boar cutlets are real good,” his sister adds. 

“As are the venison steaks. What did you add again to the spices yesterday, Dee?”

“Red peppercorns,” she recalls, and then they throw themselves into an excited listing of their current menu that has Levi’s ears buzz when they leave. 

The door closes behind their chattering figures, and Erika snorts. “Well, you have some intense supporters, haven’t you? You don’t keep score by any chance?”

Opening the till to store away Dennis and Desiree’s money, Levi exhales. “Next will be number twenty-three for today.”

Erika chuckles. “Well, good luck then. Jewellery would be nice though.” When Levi raises his eyebrows in mild reprimand at the input, she shrugs, mirth glittering in her eyes. “Just saying. Might earn you a lovely shag or two if you surprise him with it.”

Snorting at her wink, Levi takes the pot of coffee to tend to the curious pair of soldiers in the middle of his café. The chatter’s lingering echo in his head demands him to move his restless feet and to needle someone in return. 

“Refill?” he offers, not waiting for a reply before he pours steaming black liquid into their cups. If they think they can spy on his private information, they can pay for an attentive stream of hot beverages. 

Being met with their startled expressions, he flashes them a calculated smile that has them shrink on their seats. 

The woman manages a “thanks,” but then flushes all the way to her hairline and fails to hide it behind her cup with a giggle. The man merely gapes, and Levi can sense the confused stare following him all the way back to his counter where Erika awaits him with a grin. 

“Our elite, mark you,” she says, nodding at the coffee pot. “And nice tactic. Attentive. Evasive as well, eh?”

Knowing she doesn’t take his reserve personal, Levi snorts and lifts the pot. “Want a refill too?” 

“Nah. I’m too buzzed already. But thanks.” She finishes her cherry pie and exhales a soft sigh as the treat’s remains vanish in her mouth. “Really good. I’ll gladly favour Norman’s pastries over a ton of bullshit any day.”

The image of Claudio ranting at Eren pushes its way back into Levi’s head, and his prior amusement seeps away, dropping a heavy veil onto his shoulders. “Mm.”

“Bet he’s in the same boat as me,” she mumbles a moment later, gaze fixed on the entrance and fork pointing towards it too.

The door opens with the familiar chime to let in a grim-looking Arne. 

“Well then. I suppose that’s my cue to leave,” Erika declares, searching her pockets for some coins to put onto the counter. “The Commander expects me anyway. Thank you for the chat and breakfast.” Emptying her coffee, Erika hops from her seat, picks up her rucksack to sling it over her shoulder, and sends Arne a sympathetic nod as she leaves. 

Lifting an eyebrow at Arne’s unexpected appearance, Levi doesn’t wait for his usual order. He takes a tea sieve and fills it with a spoon of dragon pearls before pouring steaming water over the pearly leaves.

Arne sinks down on his favourite bar stool, looks back at Levi, and sighs. Giving him some time, Levi tends to the used dishes piling in the staff department, seizing the quietness and experienced movements. With that done, he tends to another refill round of coffee, ensuring to flash another maniac smile at the Military Police Officers looming in the back. The round empties the pot, and he rinses it in the back too. When he returns to the bar, Arne points at a cinnamon roll. 

“That one.”

Smiling to himself at the easy talk, Levi puts it onto a plate. “No fork?” The last time, Arne refused it with a wave of his hand. 

“No.”

Levi adds a napkin to the serving and slides it across the counter before pouring Arne his tea, and brewing himself a second infusion. The jasmine’s fragile sweet scent fills the room and eases his nerves. 

Arne takes a small sip, sighs again, and reaches into his burlap bundle to drop today’s Paradis Herald onto the counter without a further word.

Wondering whether he should be astonished or exasperated that news even reached the secluded hunter, Levi smirks. “A man of chit-chat, are you now? You disappoint me.”

Arne meets his gaze, and a rare smile fills his weathered face before he huffs a booming laugh. “You’re taking this nonsense well, I see.”

Levi shrugs and fills his own cup with the light coloured infusion. “What can I do? Blackmail the press? They didn’t like it much the last time we tried. Something about harsh methods.”

Arne shows a set of flashing teeth under deepening crow’s feet. “Thought I’d check if you need anything.”

“Mm.” Levi spoons fresh ground coffee powder into the cleaned coffee pot, silently counting up to the required amount. 

Arne hums into his trimmed beard and tends to his cinnamon roll. “Honest gossip’s one thing. Don’t like these lies. Nothing true I take it?” He thumps a meaty paw onto the paper.

“Apart from Evelyn’s account of us being official in yesterday’s news? No. She’s too well-informed since she’s in here most days. Lobelia Schreiber is another story.” The fragrance of roasted beans rises up his nose as Levi fills the coffee pot with hot water. 

“So I noticed.” Nodding, Arne drinks his tea and emerges with glistening goldenrod eyes. “Don’t tell Evey she’s got it all right.”

Levi huffs and closes the coffee pot, setting it aside to steep. 

The couple of officers in the back whisper, yet fall silent when Arne shoots them a hard glance over his shoulder. 

Harrumphing, he turns back to Levi. “Nosy folks keeping you busy, I see.”

Levi smirks. “They’re good customers with all the coffee they drink.”

A waggish smile flickers across Arne’s features as he nods and takes the first bite of his cinnamon roll. When he sets it back down, his expression is more serious. “How’s Eren dealing with this nonsense attention?”

“He laughed at it this morning,” Levi replies, turning his head to the direction of HQ again and resting his fingers over the comforting steam rising from his cup before taking a sip. “The day will show after work.”

They fall into silence, Levi regarding the passing people on the street, Arne eating his cinnamon roll and drinking his tea. Arne’s subtle offer to help collides with the image of Eren being ill early in the morning. The local herbalists and doctors mean well and would gladly help, but Levi isn’t willing to risk Eren’s condition getting into the news, and the military’s medic would have to report every little detail. 

“Do you know a herbalist that’s any good?” Levi asks, keeping his voice quiet so that pricked up ears won’t hear it. “Discreet too?”

Arne grunts and responds in an equally quiet tone. “An old friend in the outskirts of the neighbouring town. What do you need?”

“Anything helpful against severe headache-created nausea,” Levi answers and keeps his breathing in check as he ponders further possible symptoms from Eren’s worse days during the war. “Stopping random nosebleeds. Maybe some sleeping mixture that won’t cause mental fog.” He can’t do anything about the memories, and even if he could, the mere idea of messing with Eren’s head too makes him sick to his stomach.

Witty yet concerned eyes settle on him from behind bushy brown eyebrows. Arne’s cheek ticks once as his eyes ask if Levi is okay. Levi gives a subtle head shake. 

“Best I’ll send her over then.”

Levi nods his gratitude. 

“Nice one again,” Arne says after taking another sip of Dragon Tea.

Though the praise is honest, the change of topic is deliberate. Arne doesn’t pry into other people’s lives. He does what he can for those he likes. A trait that makes him one of Levi’s favourite customers and vendors. 

“A new merchant found this place,” he replies. “He’s got good teas.”

“Does it come in small boxes too?”

Recognising the business tone, Levi hums and goes to fetch a small sealed caddie from the staff department. “What do you got for me today?”

Arne picks up his bag to produce a small furry bundle tied together with twine. “Nicked it a bit. Can't sell it like that but it's still good quality.” He pauses as though in thought right before another small smile tugs at his lips. “I thought for your new chair.”

Levi snorts a huff. Of course, Arne’s heard about Eren’s purchase. He delivers meat to several businesses in town. “And what would you know about that?”

“All kinds of things,” Arne says. “Arrives this week.” 

“Does it?” Levi lifts an eyebrow. “Good to know.” He nods at the neatly folded pelt. The short hairs are a warm, dark brown that matches the hue of his wooden floor, streaked with a bit of white, like drops of cream. “Fawn?”

“It is. Beautiful marking.” Arne scratches his stubbly chin. “Has a small hole on the left shoulder blade though. Rich folks don’t want it like that. Say it’s bad.” 

“Spoiled fatheads.” Levi lets his fingertips glide over the fur, feeling the cool, soft bristles warm under his touch. He smiles. Eren would love it. 

Giving the fur a decisive pat, he places the caddie with Dragon Pearls onto the counter and goes back into the staff department, heading for a personal collection of small, shiny birch cubes that are also wax-sealed. He picks the most untarnished one, runs his thumb over the smooth, polished wood with a lingering smile, and goes back into the customer section of his café. 

“One to two teaspoons per cup,” he instructs. “You can reuse it as often as you’d like. Better not steep it for too long or with too hot water. Try a minute or two first and see whether you’d like it stronger or weaker. Should I write it down?”

Arne shakes his head. “What is this?”

“I’ve been given access to a new leaf that the expedition crew brought back. They found out the plant contains caffeine. It’s as good as coffee. Bitter if you steep it too long. A bit tangy if done right.” 

Looking at both offers with an interested gleam in his eyes, Arne frowns and eventually nods. “Next ham’s on me.”

Smiling, Levi nudges both offerings closer to Arne. “Fine by me. As long as you don’t make it a whole leg.”

“Deal.” His knuckle knocks against the wooden box where an engraved ‘A’, courtesy of Connie, adorns the top lid. “This better not be special treatment.”

Levi lifts an eyebrow. It is, but he’s got the feeling the gesture is mutual anyway. He points at the drawing over his counter. “The ‘A’ stands for Armin,” he says. “He figured out the properties of this new plant.”

“All right.” 

After putting both purchases into his bag, Arne polishes off his cinnamon roll and joins Levi for another fifteen minutes in blissful silence before he moves to leave. 

“Evey’s coming over,” he says, hoisting the bundle over his shoulder. 

“I have no doubt,” Levi says. Evelyn must be in a jubilant tizzy over today’s gossip. Which probably means Norman will show up once she returns from her early afternoon break too to get his own version of things. “Not her time yet. Soon though.”

Arne clears his throat. “Better beware of some cake samples. The lemon pie is rather good.” 

Levi holds back a sigh. “Will do. May add it to the display for the customers since you recommend it.”

Smile flitting across Arne’s face, he nods. “See you around.”

As he turns and steps out into the busy street, Levi feels a wistful jolt of envy at the thought of woods and silence. Then his eyes land on the fawn pelt, and his heart warms with gratitude as he stores it away for later. 

 

*

 

It’s early afternoon when Evelyn enters the Sparrow, followed by Norman who holds her the door open. 

Lifting an eyebrow at their double-entrance, Levi braces himself for a tough talk. They haven’t been over together ever since he opened the café. There must be a reason for it. 

“Ran out of customers?” he teases, reaching for two cups. 

Norman’s booming laugh drowns the tinkle of the bell as he closes the door behind him. 

“Oh, no. Frey is having an eye on the bakery,” Evelyn says, her cold-reddened cheeks swollen with delight as she flounces towards the barstool.   

Norman follows her with his usual, more sweeping, pace, and they both place small platters with cake samples onto the brass counter before sinking onto their seats. 

“Now,” Evelyn says, “you must tell us everything. Frey said, there is no wedding.”

“There isn’t,” Levi answers, taking in their expressions that turn from elated in Evelyn’s case and bright in Norman’s to stern on both sides. 

“Now, Levi we can’t have that,” Evelyn chides. “You must. We don’t want to see you both having your reputations drug through the gossip mill and getting tarnished. Don’t you want to do right by him?”

Holding their gazes, Levi doesn’t reply. If they weren’t such thoughtful, good people, he’d be hard-pressed to put up with their meddling and demands. He never reacted well to society’s obligations pushing him into corners, and he won’t start caving to them now. No matter how cordial the motive. 

Furthermore, there is that lingering image of Eren crouching over the toilet this morning, including the question whether Eren even has a future. If the serum isn’t entirely working, if it only helps against the side effects but not the problem itself, Eren is running out of time. Death doesn’t care about reputation slander. The mere thought makes Levi’s stomach churn and cramp. He can’t let this happen. He won’t. First, he’s got to deal with Norman and Evelyn’s curious interfering through. 

After a moment of quietness, Norman rests his massive forearms onto the counter as his eyebrows draw together. “We understand you’re not in for some grand spectacle, lad. We’re not like those fools running around this town today, claiming silliness. We know you too well. But that aside. Never?” 

Two pairs of blue eyes look at him with expectation, kind and earnest, and Levi takes a deep breath. “Dragon Pearls?” he asks. They need a drink for this talk, and he needs something to soothe his nerves. 

Norman leans back, nodding as he takes Evelyn’s small hand in his big paw to stop her from saying whatever she’s inhaling deeply for. She relaxes in an instant and closes her mouth with a frown still darkening her features. 

“New tea?” Norman asks before his blonde-streaked beard flutters with an accepting hum.

“It is.” Levi fills a tea sieve and sorts his thoughts before he replies to Norman’s initial question. “Not yet. We aren’t ready.”

“But why?” Evelyn wails as her shoulders sink and her head tilts to her right side. “You two love each other. Is this because you’re both men? Have some folks been trying to end the practice?”

Snapping his head up, Levi blinks. 

“Evelyn,” Norman begins, but she cuts him off.

“I want to understand this, Norman. It’s not that we ever minded, even before. I know some are ashamed of it, even though the law doesn’t make a difference when it comes to who we marry. Is it because of this?” She fixes Levi with her eyes that are a shade lighter than her husband’s darker, grey spotted ones. “Because it shouldn’t be like that, you know?”

Shaking his head, Levi manages to find his speech again. “No. It’s not because of that.”

Though she nods, Evelyn isn’t finished yet. “No one should tell you who you’re supposed to love or not,” she insists, looking fiercer than Levi has ever seen her before. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and her usually soft features have assumed a determination that’s usually only felt in her relentless drive to help people without ever taking no for an answer. “Norman and I wouldn’t be here today if we would have let that stop us, and I won’t let people come into your way. We both won’t.”

Norman pats her hand and blinks down at the counter as the sounds of the other customers fill the room around them. 

Levi adds boiling water to the tea pot and can’t help but smile. “You’re from Mitras,” he concludes.

“I am,” Evelyn says. “My parents didn’t like Norman much, you know.”

Norman huffs a brief laugh. “That’s an understatement. And they still don’t.”

“If they bothered to get to know you, they would, darling,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone telling just as much of countless repetitions of this conversation in the past and future to come as Norman’s defeated sigh. 

Chest warm at their interaction, Levi smiles to himself. Evelyn the Eloper. Who would have guessed that? Then again, it probably shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does. Norman always praises her spirit. 

“That’s not the point here, though,” she says, turning back to Levi. “The point is we know how silly people can be with their opinions, and we won’t let it stop you from being happy and legally married.” 

When she is finished, Norman reaches for a napkin to pat his face with an emotional sniff. 

“Tell me,” Levi says. “Do we look like people giving a fuck about conventions or what others think?”

“No,” Evelyn says without turning a hair. “But you should know anyway. And while we’re at it, we won’t let reporters spread lies either. Titan wedding!” she scoffs. “As if you were fools. And people telling idiotic rumours about what a threat Eren is, asking around for information. We won’t support people bringing shame on either of you. Not after you and Eren did so much for us. We remember. We have your back. Isn’t that right, Norman?”

Norman clears his throat. His eyes are dry again and a mild smile softens the lines around them. “You see why I married her?” he asks Levi. “She’s still as fiery as she was when we first met.”

Levi feels another smile twitch at his lips while Evelyn blushes and gives Norman’s arm a flustered slap. “Oh, shush you, you evil man. I’m serious here.”

Norman laughs and hugs her as he lets her giggle against his chest. 

Leaving the sieve in the tea pot, Levi pours them two cups, and after pouring fresh water over the leaves for himself, he fetches a small sealed caddie from the staff department to give them a second of privacy. 

When he returns, Evelyn beams at him, setting her cup back down. “This is absolutely lovely.”

“Wonderful choice, Levi,” Norman agrees, lifting the cup. “Smells good too. Jasmine, ain’t it?”

“New line,” Levi says. “And yes. Partly.”

“Oh!” Evelyn cheers, shaking her head with her eyes on the fetched Dragon Pearls caddie Levi sets onto the counter. “You know me too well.”

“Another week of bagels?” Levi suggests. 

Norman nods. “Fine with us.”

Levi gathers the wrapping supplies from under the counter. Norman and Evelyn don’t have a long way home and it isn’t wet outside, yet Evelyn always likes the gift-wrappings.

“It’s not because we’re both men,” Levi explains as he cuts some chips off the sealing wax stick. They will pester him with questions anyway, so he at least can predefine the topic’s direction while he’s got the chance. Fortunately, the curious couple of Military Police soldiers left about half an hour earlier, so he won’t have to spill with intrusive strangers nearby, close to full café or not.

“Why then?” Evelyn asks, curling her fingers around the handle of her cup as if it would steady her. “You must want to. You love each other. We can tell. We always could, even when you still thought this would never happen. And you look so happy together. Does he not want to? Because it’s clear you do.”

Levi lifts an eyebrow. “Is it now?”

“Don’t look at us like that, young man,” Norman says. “We have eyes to see.”

Reminded of a similar talk he had with Norman about a year ago, Levi stores away his knife and exhales. “I didn’t say never,” he admits.

Norman nods in understanding. “Good things take time.”

Levi grants him a snort. “So they do.”

“But when?” Evelyn presses further. “Preparations are more time-consuming than most realise. If you want to marry within the next year, you must make haste. Winter isn’t good, and next summer will be too late to start.”

“Who is it that is supposed to get hitched?” Levi asks, collecting the black shards of wax in a spoon to heat them with a candle. “Eren and me, or do you want to leave your husband to marry us both?” 

Red shoots up her face as Norman bursts into laughter. 

“This isn’t funny, Norman!”

Norman laughs even louder. Evelyn hides behind her tea cup. 

“We eloped, so now my wife helps plan everyone else’s wedding,” Norman contributes, his bushy red eyebrows not concealing the grey spots dancing in his eyes. “She’s become a real expert about such things.”

“I won’t be pushed,” Levi says when Evelyn’s blush has faded and Norman’s amusement has abated into a deep chuckle. He pours the molten wax over the loose flap of the wrapping paper and presses his seal into the soft, already hardening mass.

“I know,” Evelyn says. “What I said is true nonetheless. People will put pressure on you if you don’t act.”

“No shit,” Levi retorts, holding her gaze. 

“Don’t be vulgar,” she scolds. “It doesn’t suit this talk.”

Setting the fully wrapped caddie beside her saucer, Levi sighs. “Is this what all this cake is for?” He gestures at the platters before him. 

Perking up, Evelyn nods. “Of course, it is. What’s a wedding without cake?” 

Norman is quiet, yet there’s something in the way he glances at the samples that tells Levi those aren't the usual cakes for selling daily in the bakery. Giving the pastries a closer look, he crumbles in defeat. 

There’s cream pie with conserved fruit. Cake with icing. Chocolate cake in a couple of varieties, an elegant spongy creation looking like it would be a shame to destroy it, one that looks like the summer sun shining through fluffy clouds, and even some glazed things with solid caramel swirls as decoration.

“This is how this will work,” he offers, looking them both in the eye and holding back the question of how long it took them to assemble this collection. Probably all weekend. “We will try them. We will tell you which we prefer, and we will tell you when we think it’s time for our ceremony. I’d also like one or two of them to become a weekend special for here. Consider it a bit of advertising for others who are ready to get married.”

“Wonderful!” Evelyn beams while Norman lightens up too, growing in his seat as he starts to explain which cake contains what and why he thought Levi and Eren would like it. 

Taking mental notes, Levi must admit Eren will adore every little piece. After today, he’ll need all the sugar he can get too. Hopefully, Claudio’s treatment won’t snuff out his smile entirely. 


	4. Interrogation

With Claudio out of her office for a little while, Hanji rushes through her morning routine. 

Loo. A splash of water into her face. Followed by brushing her teeth whilst disregarding the tub’s importunate presence with as much determination as she can muster. She skips primping her hair, surmising it improves her maniac appearance, and steps out of the bathroom right on time when the awaited knock comes from her door. 

Tock-tock!

As usual, the characteristic sound is polite yet insistent at the same time, as if saying, “send me away if you don’t want me here, though I’d really like to see you.” The contradiction warms Hanji’s chest with fond appreciation, and she smiles. 

“Come in, Eren.”

He enters with a big steaming cup in his hands, alongside risen eyebrows. “Er, Tom said Erika said it’s urgent, Commander?” 

His complexion is a bit too pale as he approaches, yet his resolute steps suggest dedicated energy, and Hanji sighs in relief. If this day goes how she thinks it will, he’ll need every bit of strength he has. 

“It is,” she replies. “Thank you for coming right away.”

“I would have come sooner, but Tom also said to bring you this, so I made a detour to the kitchen,” he says, placing the cup onto her desk. “If I’d known, I’d have brought you something from Levi’s.” 

Dark brown liquid sloshes inside the mug, and a second later coffee-scented air hits Hanji’s system. 

“Oh, thank fuck!” A grateful groan escapes her as she dashes at the source of blissful alertness, her fingers clutching at the scalding clay as though it was a matter of life or death.

She throws the brew down in one go, not even minding the military blend’s repulsive taste, or the familiar sting of too hot liquid scorching her throat. It’s heaven, and closing her eyes, she relishes the glorious sensation of her mind aligning while her body reacts to the caffeine in a way that makes everything slot into the right places. It won’t last long with only one cup, but it will suffice until Erika will bring her new supplies from the Sparrow. 

“What’s wrong, Hanji?” Eren asks, foregoing any formal address. “Tom wouldn’t say anything.”

Opening her eyes, she looks at him. A frown creases his brow. Concern surrounds him like a shield as he stands before her, tall, fierce, broad-shouldered, bright. His hair is tied up, with a few unruly strands escaping the messy half-ponytail and framing his matured face. A proudly kept purplish shadow hints at a love bite wanting to peek out from under his collar, and his harness is fastened in a neat way that screams Special Operation Squad, disregarding the years that have passed since then. 

They’ve come so far since they first met. The confused, anger-driven teenager from the dungeon cell, and the misfit, off-wall scientist who once dreamt about talking to a Titan. His mere miraculous existence, not to mention genial company, has always made Hanji feel less alone in this world. She must protect him, even if it costs her life. 

Hanji wishes she could spare him the humiliations and degradations this day will bring, yet she can’t. She can be here with him at least. They will face the trouble together, and she will make sure no one will lay a single finger on him. 

“Claudio is here,” she reveals, instantly feeling Eren’s anger ignite like an explosion going off as his eyes go dark. “He wants to talk to you.”

 

*

 

The interrogation, as expected, is a single ordeal.

“I want him confined, and I want it to happen today,” Claudio demands, pointing first at Eren before pressing his stubby index finger onto Hanji’s desk as if that would intimidate her.

A part of her can’t stop thinking it would be hilarious if Claudio didn’t mean every single word coming out of his racist, ignorant mouth. She could downright thrive on it if her hands weren’t as tied as they are, and if the lives being on the line here weren’t her family’s. What they need is help. Help and time for it to arrive. Until then, all she can do is play hurtful yet harmless little mind games with Claudio, try not to kill him whilst listening to his worldview which is as thick as a brick. That, and make sure Eren comes out of this in one piece. 

“He did nothing wrong, Colonel,” Hanji says, forestalling Eren’s reply before he has the chance do anything selfless and martyric. This is not the right moment for anything the like. 

She smiles, making her voice breezy and blithe as if she didn’t know Claudio already tried this coup two years ago. She crossed his plans back then, and only in his wildest dreams can he honestly believe she’d let him go through with this now. “Zackley pronounced him free,” she rambles on, “How often do I have to repeat this, Colonel? In his critical days, it would be irresponsible of any of us to lock him up. Or do you want to explain to our Supreme Commander why you thought upsetting Eren would be a better option than hearing him out before doing so?” Her fingers need to do something, so she occupies them with pouring herself a new cup of coffee. Bless Levi and his thermos flasks!

“That aside,” Hanji pauses to empty her mug with a deep gulp, “I’ll gladly take the responsibility should anything happen with Eren meanwhile. We all are supposed to kill him anyway should he try anything, as you so thoughtfully made us agree to. And I don’t know about you, but I’ve always preferred the more dramatic route.” She snorts with a shake of her head before releasing a satisfied sigh, pretending to zone out. “So much more fun, you see? The world has become so boring since the war ended.” 

While Eren scratches his neck where his love bites leave him in a slow trail of steam, Claudio opens his mouth. When nothing comes out, he closes it again, gasping for air like a fish above water. 

As she savours his efforts to make sense of her, Hanji throws him another topic to lose his mind over. “I also want to add that, current tea connoisseur or not, Levi tends to be rather angry and uncontrollable when someone causes Eren distress.” Her arms stretch as she leans back in her chair, displaying a self-assured pose. “Can you imagine what would happen if Eren doesn’t come home tonight? I’d have to be in the cellar with him to make sure of his well-being, of course, thanks to you leaving the Commander post to me. Which would mean you’re in charge of HQ and its interests meanwhile. Do you want to explain to an outraged former thug and soldier why you thought imprisoning his blameless partner and depriving him of his rights was a great idea?” 

Claudio turns white as a sheet and snorts. A weak, trembling huff, accompanied by an uncertain voice. “He can’t do me no harm. He’s got no gear anymore.”

“Which is the real reason why you sacked him, isn’t it?” Hanji answers with a sugarsweet smile, turning to Eren who scowls at her words, eyes flickering with the first irrepressible traces of protective blue. 

Good, Hanji thinks at his effervescence. It will help her to make Eren focus on something else as well. All she has to do is appeal to his loyalty and poke his slightly dark temper into action. 

“Remind me, Eren,” she says, pursing her lips. “What’s Levi’s speciality again? I think I forgot. I haven’t seen him fight for too long.”

“Knives, Commander,” comes the instant answer. 

When he searches her eyes, as if uncertain what she wants him to say, she grants him a merry hum with swelling cheeks. Eren nods, understands her permission to speak on for what it is, and straightens up. 

“He likes to cut things. From up close. I think he once said he prefers it when his enemies stay alive for a while, though not for too long. He also said it’s better to slice them a bit before asking any questions.”

“That’s it. Knives! Thank you, Eren.” Hanji beams at him, genuine and proud, before turning to Claudio. “How silly of me. And that after him hewing that Titan army outside of Shinagina all by himself? Where is my head sometimes?” She allows herself to snort, letting out some of her tingling energy by giving her desktop a thorough sudden slap that makes Claudio flinch. It pleases her, so she does it again. “Ha! He even told me once a fork isn’t much different from a knife. Can you believe that?” Laughing, she gives the desk a third and final slap, before she freezes, feigning confusion. “Or was that me telling him?”

Claudio closes his eyes for a moment. “Would you focus back on the topic, Commander?” 

She appraises him to check if he’s diverted enough, and ties him another snare. “Of course, Colonel. Where were we? Oh, right. You dealing with Levi when Eren doesn’t come home.”

“I will not do such a thing! I’m not a messenger. Preposterous!”

As she said. Child’s play. It’s almost disappointing how easy he makes it for her. Then again, Claudio has always been scared shitless of Levi, and the mere idea of facing him has never failed in its effect. It makes Hanji wonder what Claudio would say if he knew it’s her secret-keeping that’s been protecting him from Levi’s wrath for all this time. He’d probably kiss her feet. 

“So we don’t confine Eren then?” she states with a nod. “I’m so glad we understand each other, Colonel. Also, nice vocabulary. I love big words. I have a folder in which I collect them. Do you want to see it? It’s always wonderful to meet follow appreciators.” 

He crimsons, huffs, and inhales for a new approach.

 

*

 

When Claudio calls it a day on schedule for dinner, Hanji congratulates herself for her restraint at seeing him leave without a single scratch on his podgy face. He struts out of her office, taking with him a fat stack of notes and statements alongside his arrogance and the pestiferous, hostile air within the room. 

“Finally,” she says when they are alone, sinking against her chair’s backrest. 

Granted, she’s been enjoying herself, yet with Levi’s caffeine supplies depleted by noon, her energy reserves are drained. Her skin feels raw as if someone grated over it. Her nerves are jangling. Then Eren’s exhaustion sweeps over her, crashes over her like a wave pulling her down, and her body reacts on its own, beginning to tremble. 

It’s like Claudio’s presence caused some friction in her blood, like an accumulating tension will end in a thunderstorm, and Hanji needs to let out the pressure. So she lets it happen, lets it surge into her arms and fingers, allowing them to move in frantic jerks before burying them in her hair. With the movement, the restriction on her verbal tirade breaks too, permitting a muttered stream of words to spill out. It doesn’t matter whether they make any sense, or not. They need to leave her, or she will implode.

“Commander, are you all right?” Eren asks, his relief hardening into solicitude until it surrounds them both like a sheltering solid wall. 

It helps. As it always has. 

Glancing up at him, she manages to compose herself, fisting her strands as her vision realigns with reality. He’s already seen her like this before, witnessed her kick solid furniture into pieces, strangle some illustrious people, and melt into some serious crying attacks in moments when nothing else would suffice. He never judged her for any of it. On the contrary, it’s like he wraps a warm, comforting blanket around her shoulders when the world is too cold and demanding, telling her without words it’s all right.

Maybe Eren’s outbursts make him understand her where so few others do. Maybe he can remember a distant time in which he was less angry, more balanced, better well-adjusted too. Not that it would change anything about who they are now or that she wouldn’t have him any other way. Besides. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?

Eren has always been his own kind of strong, and has gotten stronger every day she’s known him. Now that she looks closer though, she notices how pale he’s gotten throughout the day. His pose is slightly slumped, the golden glow of his hair has dulled, his eyes that shone so fierce this morning are bloodshot and glossy. With the stress leaving his system, his eyeballs have started to heal the strain. It rises from his lacrimals in narrow rivulets, like tears of smoke floating up.  

As much as he trusts him and usually confides in him, this isn’t the moment to let him in on her troubles. She needs him back on his feet for tomorrow since this is not over. So Hanji lets go of her hair and forces a smile. “I only need some coffee, Eren,” she says, stating as much of the truth as she can.

“I’ll fetch you some,” he offers without hesitation. 

“No, I’m going myself,” she says. He needs to rest and be home before Levi becomes worried enough to stomp into HQ and give Claudio a genuine reason to lose his shit. 

Instead of leaving, Eren shifts his weight with a small grimace. “Is there anything for me to do?”

“Huh?” She blinks at him. Overexertion streaming from his eyes, care emanating from him like summer heat, and god, he’s wonderful.

When Levi started to show first signs of serious affection, Hanji asked him what he saw in someone who rescued butterflies and moths from being trapped indoors. Levi answered with cross-armed silence before giving her the advice to mind her own fucking business, yet she never really needed an explanation. It was obvious, and it still is. If anything, Eren’s kindness has only enhanced over the years, fuelled by life and experience and a heart so passionately honest it would have verged on a miracle if Levi hadn’t fallen for him. Sometimes Hanji wonders if he’s even real. 

“Oh, no.” Shaking her head, she swallows. “Connie and Sasha are taking over the regular paperwork for you this week. I’d rather have you get some sleep so you’re back on your feet tomorrow.” Sensing he’s about to protest, she shoots him a smile. Under other circumstances, she’d accompany him home. Yet whereas he needs all the care Levi will certainly give him, Hanji needs a few moments to herself. A single minute or two so she can distance herself from emotions that aren’t her own. Eren shouldn’t have to wait for her in front of her office, like some berated servant. 

“Thank you, Eren. You did good today. Now go home. I’ll join you two in a minute. Just let me finish writing down this thought.” The final words stretch in a yawn, despite her efforts to keep it in check, yet seem to have the desired effect. 

He offers a quivering smile back before pressing his lips together with a frowning nod, leaving her office with a clearing of his throat and an overwrought scratch of his head. 

The door closes behind him, and Hanji sighs into the blaring silence of her office as the animated storm around her begins to settle. 

Then she stands, grabs her coat, and after a brief detour to Connie and Sasha’s quarters, Hanji follows Eren to her long overdue visit at Levi’s café. 

 

*

 

“Your care package made my day,” Hanji declares, plopping down on one of the Sparrow’s bar stools. She can only resist the wish to rest her brow on the countertop’s cool brass because Levi presses the extra big mug into her hand. It’s blissfully hot. “I almost thought he’d never leave us alone.”

Levi huffs. “Tomorrow’s a new day.” 

“Don’t remind me.” The coffee smells fantastic. She gulps the first filling down in one go before holding the cup out for a refill. “Ugh. So good.”

Frowning at her groan, Levi complies, the pot still in his hand. “How is Eren?” 

Alarm rings in Hanji’s ears as she pays the vacant bar stools around her closer attention. Eren isn’t here yet? She summons a convincing smile. “Should be here any minute.”

Nodding, Levi looks towards the window front. The line on his brow is deep, his expression slightly haunted as he puts a sieve with unfurled tea leaves into a close-by tea pot.

“I wish you could have seen him today,” Hanji adds, trying to figure out whether Levi’s strained seriousness is due to Claudio’s meddling or if there’s something else. “He handled the endless questions so well. Reminded me of you, actually.” 

She wants to say more, yet jasmine scent rises from the freshly filled tea pot before her, and her senses perk up. This is more than just the top brass meddling. Did Tom visit the Sparrow and let something slip? Did Erika tell Levi about Claudio’s long-term schemes? 

“What’s wrong, grumpy?” she asks, deciding to poke. “You look pale around your cute little nose.”

Grey eyes meet hers, and Levi takes a long-stretched breath. Not good.

“Eren honked bile last night,” he says with a tight jaw. “Something you forgot to tell me?”

Oh, bugger. 

Drawing her lips sideways, Hanji does her best to look innocent. Well, this had to happen eventually, so why not today to add some spice to all the other crap? She meets Levi’s gaze, and at the flashing silver in his eyes, her mind starts to race. 

Overprotective Ackerman number one. Personal main priority: Eren. Possible defence mechanisms to keep priority safe in relation to rising threat: Thickening silence, glaring, snapping—which also tends to be the stage when abrupt movements set in—, yelling, combat mode with stunning precision, amazing reflexes, and superhuman strength. Last but not least cold, extraordinary focus and directed fury. All of which underlaid by impressive gut feelings and the instinctive knowledge of whom to trust. 

As Levi is well aware, Hanji is a very trustworthy ally, more than devoted to Eren and him both, and he is not that mad yet. However. Of all the symptoms Eren ever showed, throwing up always unsettled Levi most, though Hanji never found out why. 

Eren vomiting so much must have driven Levi mad with worry. In hindsight, it certainly explains why Eren looked so anaemic all day long. Even so, regarding there is no immediate threat by her having kept that information from Levi, he’ll reach the snapping stage at most. 

Hence Hanji decides to appeal to his reason instead of pulling out her artillery of pretend-crazy. Let him have a quick outburst to blow off some steam, and return to daily business. They have more important things to focus on than mild paranoia directed at things that are what they are anyway. 

“You had enough worries on your plate, Levi,” she says with a carefree voice and a dismissive wave. “Plus, regarding your relationship, it was his obligation to tell you. Not mine.”

Levi slams his hand on the counter so hard the china clatters. “Fuck it, Hanji!” 

The café falls silent. Levi glowers into the round before he redirects his glare back at her. “This isn’t something for you to keep a secret from me,” he hisses. “It’s not. It’s fucking not.”

Unperturbed, Hanji stares back. “You wouldn’t be able to change anything, Levi. Look at me.” 

His nostrils flare under a deep breath. “What!”

“He’s fine right now,” she insists. Well, at least she thinks he is. Why isn’t Eren here yet? “I saw him earlier. I’ve been with him all day. He is tired, but as healthy as he can be, and we both know he’s stronger than is good for him. He’ll be back home soon. Count your breath, trust me, and tell me what you know. Status check. Now.” 

Long seconds pass, but Levi closes his eyes and brings his breath back under control. When he looks at Hanji again, his gaze is still fierce, yet the rising panic in it is gone, locked away behind unrelenting grey shields. His voice is calm again too. “He says the serum works.”

“It does,” Hanji affirms, keeping her latest theories in Titan science to herself. Levi would not appreciate them now. “We checked. A lot. You saw the reports.”

“I don’t give a shit about the damned reports,” he shoots back. “How certain are you today?” 

“Ninety-eight per cent, same as back then.” At his ongoing scowl, Hanji rolls her eyes. “Do you really think I would stop with tests and experiments just because I didn’t have to do them anymore? You know me better than that. I would do anything to find a cure against this. I am.”

Searching her face for a moment, Levi nods. 

“How bad was it?” Hanji asks, cradling her mug with coffee. He needs to talk about this, ask her questions, and it’s better to nudge him into talking than letting him brood. “Puking you said. Migraine too?”

Levi shrugs. “At least at first. He emptied his whole stomach and kept heaving even when there was nothing left, four-eyes.” 

She pulls a face as something in her guts twists. “According to him and Armin, that rarely happens,” she says. “I’m amazed he can still work well as he did today.”

“Four-eyes,” Levi says, leaning forward with his hands on the counter. “He’s found ways to work well with his legs cut off and a spike piercing his chest before.” 

“That’s right, he used to do that, didn’t he?” Hanji thinks out loud before she explains. “Not anymore though. He says he won’t teach the kids like this. Especially drills outside. He doesn’t want to endanger them when he’s not at his best ability. And before you ask how you can help; you’re doing everything right. You always have. Make sure he is safe. Give him food. Let him sleep by your side, and allow him to hug you.” She grins, poking further. “He deserves all the sweet manly cuddles you have in your grouchy black heart anyway.”

Finally, Levi’s shoulders relax. His lips twitch in a remorseful grimace, and rolling her eyes, Hanji nudges her cup on the counter in a silent suggestion to make up for it. 

After refilling it, Levi transfers a piece of apple pie onto a plate and shoves it towards her. “The classes he skipped last year. It was because of this?”

“He usually tries to switch to theory lessons,” Hanji answers. “And when it’s too bad, he asks Una or me to fill in so he can rest. Why do you think I was so eager to hire both Connie and Sasha? They know about this and won’t spread the information around. Neither will Mikasa and Jean. They’re keeping an eye on him to make sure he eats enough during lunch.”

“How often does it happen?” Levi asks. 

“The really bad days?” She shrugs and takes a big gulp of coffee as she thinks back. “Five times within the last year. Two of them in late October. I can give you the files if you need to know details. We wrote it all down.”

“Good.” He takes a sip of tea and nods, telling her the interrogation is over for today. 

Hanji smiles and starts on her pastry. Danger averted. At least for now. It will be an entirely different thing once he finds out about the other secret, but this will have to wait. 

“Stay for dinner?” Levi asks after a minute has passed.

She would like to, but Hanji shakes her head. “No, I must go again soon.” Shooting a longing look into her cup with twitching fingers, she sighs. “If only I could get a hold of that reporter.”

“Strangling her won’t help you.” Levi’s voice is stiff as though he has to convince himself of this. “If we’d get rid of her, there’d only be another one in her stead.”

“It would satisfy me,” she says, clenching the fork in her grip. “That bitch! I wonder if there’s more to it than horrible journalism. It’s like she knew exactly which points to address in her article that would drive the top brass idiots out of their minds. Plus, she almost didn't touch on us or on you, only pressed on the fact of Eren being a Titan. After our policies during the past years, this is a serious blow.” 

Levi only knows about half the policies, though staying as close to the truth as she can is in everyone’s favour. 

He hums. “Mm. Already thought so too.” His gaze follows her hand scratching her head, his frown lingering on her hair that must be standing out in all kinds of places, and she knows he’ll bring up the next shower soon. 

To keep him distracted from that thought as long as she can, Hanji speaks on. “I’ll be glad when the endless questions about your Titan groom cease at HQ. I must admit, I found it hilarious yesterday when the first speculations went around, but today’s theories are horrendous. You being Titan sexual is one of the more harmless ones.” It works. 

Levi snorts. “Evelyn takes care of the false rumours. As it turns out, she likes gossip but hates liars. Norman had to talk her down from a tirade.”

Delighting in the buttery soft sweetness of apples and tart crust, Hanji beams. “What a shame I missed out on that. Must have been a glorious sight. Any other highlights?”

Shrugging, Levi takes a sip of tea. “A pair of nosy soldiers came by in the morning, hoping to listen in on news. Claudio’s henchmen, I suppose.” A brief smirk tugs on his lips as his eyes assume a cunning gleam Hanji knows all too well. 

She grins. “Endless refill to rack up the tab treatment?”

“Mm. They emptied a whole pot and a half before noticing it kept coming. Were a bit shaky on their legs when they left.”

Raising her mug at him, Hanji cackles, though ends up brooding over her next bite of apple pie. 

Speaking of shaky…wasn’t Eren a bit shaky when he left too? He really should be here by now, even if he met someone on his way or went by his office first. 

Levi seems to be on the same track. “You said he’d be here soon.”

“I did,” Hanji says before she adds, “He should. He left before me.” 

It’s better to be entirely honest now. She doesn’t like Eren’s delay at all, and the uneasy crackling in the atmosphere around the counter increases by the second, making her feel sick with the knowledge something is terribly wrong.

Taking a sip of his tea and setting down the fragile cup with a brief unsteady rattle on the countertop, Levi frowns. “He wanted to come home?”

“He didn’t say so, but it was clear he would. He looked eager to get some rest and asked me whether or not he should bring me some coffee. He didn’t mean the military stuff.”

They share a look. Danger is back in Levi’s eyes, and Hanji knows they’re both thinking of the war. So many adversarial attempts at kidnapping Eren, some prevented, some of them successful, some of them planned by themselves. Despite her good intentions when she sent him home, she shouldn’t have let Eren leave without her. Not after today. 

“Did Claudio say anything?” Levi asks. “Let anything on?”

The question touches on a delicate issue, and Hanji side-steps with a half-true “No,” before adding a basis of solid truth. “He knows he isn’t allowed to harm him.” Which wouldn’t necessarily stop him and his men from doing something stupid and reckless, she supposes. Like order him chained in the dungeon for the night behind her back because of some made-up accident.

The soles of her feet start to tingle and itch. Scratching them with boots on won’t do much, so she fiddles with her fingers instead. Rubs her heated, tingling palms on the rough fabric of her trousers.

“Seen anyone suspicious on the streets?” Levi asks. 

She rolls her eyes. He should know her better than this. “Everyone is suspicious to me, Levi.”

“Fuck.”

Minutes pass in tense silence, with Levi’s eyes skimming the street as though trying to make out Eren’s shape on the other side of the windows, where nocturnal darkness has long claimed the town. 

“How did he look when he left?” Levi asks.

Hanji recalls Eren’s haggard face, his movements, the way he talked and slumped after Claudio left them, with his hands rubbing his temples. The haste with which his lunch vanished. The bruised marks beneath his sore, steaming eyes, close to showing the sickle-shaped scars. 

“Like after too many experiments,” she confesses. 

Like an easy catch for someone who planned to hurt him. 

“Levi.” She doesn’t need to say more. Their mutual apprehension is so thick right now it feels like a wall dividing the two of them from the other occupants of the Sparrow.

Levi’s gaze hardens before he takes in the café. It’s ten minutes before closing time, about half a dozen patrons left. 

“Fuck this shit.” He raises his voice, already untying his apron and bunching it up to throw it onto the counter in a careless motion. “Closing early today. Everyone out. You can pay tomorrow.” 

Jumping into action herself, Hanji claps with an odd sense of excited concern before sliding off the bar stool. It’s been too long since she last was out on the streets with Levi at her side. Whoever tried to fuck with Eren won’t know what hit them until it’s too late. They’ve always been an unbeatable team, even during spontaneous guerilla missions like this.

“I’ll check outside.” One arm struggling its way into her coat, she tosses back the rest of her coffee and hurries out into the streets to skim it for people, ignoring the “Are you all right’s” and “Is something wrong’s” surrounding her. Better to have an eye on the situation before Levi’s customers will exit and disturb the night’s obscuring darkness. 

The door falls closed behind her with a shrill chime, cutting off Levi’s curt “I’ve got something to do,” as he ushers everyone towards the entrance whilst screwing the oil lamps off.

The December wind whips around Hanji’s face, and the quietness is disconcerting to her ears, making her fingers move in agitation. No Eren far and wide. No enemies in sight either as far as she can tell, but they could lurk anywhere. 

Shit, if she only brought her gear. She knows why she loathes strolling through town without it. She’s helpless in her civilian attire, or at least less deadly and most of all far slower, not to mention bound to the ground. For Levi it must be even stranger without the gear. He always wore it like a second skin he’d never slip out of if he could help it. He must feel worse than helpless without it. Hanji finally needs to change something about that. It could save Eren’s life, given they find him. 

Oh please, let him be safe. Her fists start to shake at her sides. 

“Control yourself,” she mutters under her breath. “This is not the time to freak out. They need you. Where could Eren be?”

The patrons trickle out of the café, confusion buzzing between them in ceaseless questions. Hanji disregards them all in favour of listening to anything beneath “I wonder if something happened to Eren?” and “Do you think the strangers in town have something to do with this?” 

When the last customer is out of the door, Levi flips the sign behind the glass pane to ‘closed’ and turns to Hanji. “Be right back.” 

He reappears at the entrance a few pounding heartbeats and shallow breaths later, dressed into a long dark winter coat. 

“Did you bring any knives?” Hanji asks, patting her empty pockets as his heavy shoes click over the threshold.

“When will you learn to always have one with you?” He hands her a dagger he seems to produce out of nowhere. 

“I don’t need to when I’m with you,” she replies, putting it away. He does have a point, of course. It’s been long since she was this ill-prepared for anything.

“You don’t look well,” Levi says as he closes the café behind them with a metallic snap of the lock.

“I’m fine,” Hanji insists, struggling against the overwhelming worry and self-blame. If something happens to Eren tonight, it will be her fault for not accompanying him home. He was supposed to be under her protection, and she misread the situation. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she needs to concentrate! 

“Four-eyes,” Levi’s voices comes from up close. “Don’t lose your shit now.”

Hanji looks at her best friend and senses the strain of the day catching up. It crashes into her as the shaking of her fingers spreads into her entire body, rocking her back and forth where she stands, hands pressing against her temples. 

“Focus, four-eyes,” Levi demands, and when that doesn’t help: “Hanji!” 

Grey eyes find hers, so composed and firm in the cold winter night she suddenly understands who’s rising panic she’s been feeling. He always keeps it together so well that he sometimes blindsides her with his pent-up emotions lashing out, knocking her off her feet. What makes it even worse is she’s the one who caused Levi misery today, and sod it, he’s the last person in the world she wants to see in pain.

“I am so sorry,” bursts out of her before she can control herself. She needs to get this out of her system so they can focus back on their task. “I should have protected him better. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Levi, I really didn’t. I love you so much, please don’t be mad at me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says with a calm and matter of fact voice. “Stop it. Now.”

She nods, lost for any further words as the overflowing emotions fog her thoughts. They both know it will be over any moment, but fuck, it’s hard this time.  

Giving her just enough room to recollect herself, Levi clicks his tongue before closing the top buttons of her coat which she left open in her hurry earlier. “You’re a mess.” Searching her eyes, he wraps her scarf tighter around her throat too until the cold doesn’t gnaw at her neck anymore.

The snug shield of her fastened clothes prevents her mind and body from falling apart, making her feel protected, secured, and good. Reason sets back in, and tells her she needs oxygen fast, so she drags it deep into her system, one calculated breath after another. 

“Good,” Levi says. “One day you have to learn how to take care of yourself, glasses.”

She swallows and summons a quivering smile. “It’s what I have you for.”

“I can’t always be there to pull you out of the shit.” He frowns. “Should I go alone?”

She shakes her head at his offer and straightens up with a final shiver to keep her rocking movements under control. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Sniffing, she takes a step backwards. “I’ll be good. And we need to find him,” she insists. “He can’t be far yet.”

Levi holds her gaze. “You have your head back together?” he asks. 

She smiles, cordially now, and knocks against her brow. “Right here.” She adds a grimace to convince him and clears her throat. “Let’s go kick the serious shit out of someone. Got an idea where to start? We should probably fetch us a set of gear. I'll sneak you one out too. We should check the dungeons anyway.” 

Nodding as they head westwards, Levi beside her inhales to reply when Val’s voice cuts through the night ahead, accompanied by his hurrying footsteps. 

“Captain Levi!” he pants under heaving breaths. His face is flushed. “Where are you going?” His urgency radiates concern, making Hanji come to a halt.

“I don’t have time right now, Valentin,” Levi says, motioning Hanji to keep moving past the kid. “Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Val gasps, but then he cries out. “But Captain Levi, wait! It’s Eren.”

Hanji’s heart plummets to the ground while Levi stops. 

They turn around as one, looking at Val who lowers an outstretched arm. “He needs your help.”


	5. The Way Home

“This is a serious matter, and I will have your cooperation on this to the full!” 

Fighting his way through a flash of pain at Claudio’s shrill bark, Eren nods. “Yes, Sir.” 

“You will write weekly reports on your health status instead of monthly. You will sign the documents Squad Leader Erika is currently writing on my behalf with Commander Zoe, and you and Levi Ackerman will not have some grotesque Titan wedding.”

Eren has been standing in Hanji’s office since morning, going through one topic after the other and back in circles. Who would have thought one silly article in the news could cause such a stir? 

Regarding Claudio has been booming all over the place since morning, it would be fascinating he can still shout with such a zeal after hours if it wouldn’t be this exhausting. The nearby rooms must be booming with his voice, just as Eren’s head. 

“I can not repeat myself enough when I say this is of the utmost importance.” Claudio raises an index finger and skips on the balls of his feet, chest thrust out. His face is even redder than Eren remembers, and he still tends to spit when he talks. 

“We won’t celebrate abnormalcy. We won’t have any spectacle just for your own amusement and let you bring disgrace on one of the oldest institutions of our world! It’s bad enough it’s happening at all.”

Clenching his teeth, Eren wills himself to keep his anger and his migraine in check. Something in the endless tirade tells him Claudio waits for him to explode, to say something wrong, to provoke. Eren has managed all day long, and he won’t give Claudio the satisfaction of winning now. 

Not now, not ever. Even if Eren has to bite through his tongue to succeed. 

Never has he looked forward to an evening with paperwork this much. He’ll go home to Levi, sink into a warm, wonderful embrace, followed by warm, wonderful dinner, bookkeeping night with tea, tangled feet, and quiet peace. And then he’ll sleep. 

Fuck, his head hurts. 

After his nausea during the night, he’d been so well this morning, but the strain of the day started to take its toll around noon, and the pounding in his skull has only increased since. Claudio’s roaring doesn’t help. 

“Are you listening?” 

“I am, Sir.” Eren stems his feet into the ground to remain upright and swallows down a wave of sickness whilst fighting to pull himself together. He will not faint after puking in Hanji’s office. He will not throw up on Claudio’s shoes. He will not. He won’t! Hanji shouldn’t have to explain that sort of mess. She’s having enough trouble with him as it is. 

Right at that thought, the bathroom door slams open to let her in, hair a tousled mess, sharp eyes red-rimmed, mouth set in a grim line. She’s been scampering around her office all day long, defending Eren from Claudio, fetching the files he screamed for, and arbitrating disputes between soldiers from afar. All the time, she hasn’t left Eren’s side for one moment, aside from the occasional toilet break.

“Hmph,” Claudio puffs at Eren, ignoring her entrance. “Furthermore, you will sign a document stating there won’t be any reproduction.”

Plopping down into her chair at her desk, Hanji cackles, and Eren resists the urge to rub his temples to steady his head for the coming explosion. This is not a funny laugh, and Claudio seems to have no idea he’s poking a beehive. 

“This is not a joke, Commander,” he booms right as Hanji yells back. 

“You can’t be serious about this. Apart from the fact that this was not part of our agreement earlier, Eren and Levi can’t reproduce. They’re both men! It’s common sense.” 

“It’s theory! He’s a deviant! They both are!” Claudio bellows, gesturing at Eren who blinks against the blurry edges in his vision and the hot tightness in his chest. “We can’t risk any further Titan bastards running around. Imagine the chaos. Expedition Leader Armin will sign this document too once he’s back. I bet an abomination like this gets gutter scum off, but I will not tolerate any disobedience on this matter, or I’ll have you replaced after all.”

Claudio hasn’t even finished when Eren stands between him and Hanji’s desk. He’s heard fucking enough. 

“Stop,” he bites out, muscles tense in his struggle to not lash out. “You can resent me all you want, Colonel, but this situation has nothing to do with Levi, Expedition Leader Armin, or the Commander.” 

His chest prickles with bursting heat, and going by the sting in his palm, his fingernails have drawn blood. His eyes probably are flaring again too, yet he doesn’t care. Claudio has forgotten to terrorize Hanji, and that’s all Eren wants. “If you’ve got any problems with me, I’m the one to turn to.”

Claudio’s eyes flit over Eren’s appearance and stop at the steam emerging from his fists. “You…,” he gasps, face turning pale and sweaty. “You will not shift in this office!” 

“Why not?” Eren asks. It takes everything he has to keep his voice from yelling as he wants to, yet the satisfying sight of the recoiling man in front of him helps. “You’d be backed by today’s directive about me being taken down if I should transform without a superior’s direct order. If you’re lucky, I will run riot right now, and won't live by tomorrow morning. You can even give it your best shot yourself. I’m hard to kill, however, as my two death reports show.”

“And his healing protocols,” Hanji starts, yet Eren signs her to keep out of this, continuing.  

“Sadly, I can't pull a Titan out of my arse these days even if I wanted to. The Commander made sure of that although she liked to stand on our shoulders. It made her feel tall. Bet you'd like that too,” he adds before he can stop himself. “The view, I mean. Fifteen meters up is very high already. But sixty…few have seen that.” 

Regaining his poise, Claudio straightens up. “You will not deride me.” 

Eren stares back, cutting any further reply off. “I'm not, Colonel. I'm stating facts. The Commander even wrote a field report on it. ‘An Afternoon on The Colossal’s Shoulder.’ It’s a fun read, actually, which you would know if you read the copy she sent your way three years ago. Also,” he concludes, “your commanding officer ruled me trustworthy during numerous official court martial decisions. So I still don’t see why we’re having this discussion when I could have done my duty and taught our future Scouts proper gear use and self-defence today. They need to be prepared for handling any emergency situation after all.”

His monologue is followed by silence. Claudio stares up at him with his little eyes, nostrils flaring, cheeks billowing, blond moustache quivering.

Then Hanji speaks up. “I have to admit, I’d like to witness the civilians’ reaction to the execution of Humanity’s Hope, Colonel. And that after the military put so much trust in him and spent such high funds on advertising his contribution to victory. But we’ve been over this matter numerous times today, and repeating he can’t shift for the twenty-third time now won’t change anything. So why don’t we just call it a day and meet again tomorrow? Eren needs rest at this time of the month, as we already discussed. Or do you want to face the consequences for causing him distress after all? You know I have Supreme Commander Zackley’s support on matters concerning Eren’s well-being. I showed you the file this morning.”

Claudio’s small eyes are so restless Eren can practically see him think. “All right,” he says at last. “But this discussion is not over. It is getting late, though, and I need to write my own report before dinner.”

Of course, he has, Eren thinks. Claudio called a break for lunch too, apparently being one of those people who use the system to work as little as possible. At least it gave Eren and Hanji a few moments to themselves. They hadn’t even left the office to eat their lunch, just dug into Levi’s proffered bagels, cake, and stew. Eren had warmed it for Hanji, contenting himself with the baked goods and the protein bar from his jacket in its stead though she offered to share.

Claudio glances at his golden pocket watch. “I expect both of you here at half past seven tomorrow. Good night.”

“Sir.” Eren salutes, watching him leave with a wave of relief so strong his knees threaten to buckle. 

“Finally,” Hanji sighs when the door closes behind the Colonel, burying her shaking fingers in her strands. From all her hair pulling throughout the day, she resembles a half-plucked chicken. “That man’s ego is too big for any room. We need to get rid of him. We need to. Hurt him. I don’t know how yet but we will. Such a fucking arsehole…”

“Ha- Commander?” Eren asks, so alarmed by her soft muttering he has to remind himself of the formalities. The adrenaline boiling in his blood for hours drains from his body, making his hands tremble under the rush of fatigue. He balls them into fists to keep them still. “Are you all right?”

She looks up at him, fingers deep in her hair, and sighs. “I need some more coffee, Eren.” Going by her appearance, she needs far more than a big mug of Levi’s brew, yet after supporting him all day long, it is the least Eren can arrange for her in return. 

“I’ll fetch you some,” he says, despite a desperate wish to go home and stay there. He turns with weary bones, asking himself how he’s supposed to fetch her a coffee from the Sparrow without falling asleep on his way. 

Her reply holds him back. “No, I’m going myself.” Her voice is distant, though her eyes looking at him display nothing but gratitude. 

Relief floods his veins at her refusal, sparking a sharp slash of guilt at his selfishness that compels him to make up for it. “Is there anything for me to do?” 

“Huh?” She shakes her head. “Oh. No. Connie and Sasha are taking over the regular paperwork for you this week. I’d rather have you get some sleep so you’re back on your feet tomorrow.” She shoots him a smile. “Thank you, Eren. You did good today. Now go home. I’ll join you two in a minute. Just let me finish writing down this thought.”

He offers a forced smile back. Yet as he leaves Hanji yawning at her desk and scratching her dishevelled head, Eren can’t shake the feeling he’s not done nearly enough. There must be something else he can do. 

Mind cringing at every vibration from his echoing footsteps, Eren presses his fingertips against his brow. He hurries through the corridors towards the main gate. Though he doesn’t want to leave Hanji alone with this mess, he can’t wait to be out of this place. To see Levi, hug Levi, and kiss Levi. After that Eren doesn't really care. Anything will do as long as food, rest, and quiet are involved. 

He rubs his hurting eyes, already feeling Levi’s hair tickling his nose in an embrace, preferably under soft blankets, curled up together. Mind wandering, he crashes against someone about the height of his sternum. The impact presses the air out of his lungs, and with the momentum involved, it takes him a second to notice the pair of arms wrapping around his waist, squeezing tight. 

“Instructor Eren, Sir!” 

Blinking around, Eren spots Rita and Harold jogging towards him before he cranes his head to peer down at the telltale blonde tufts buried against his stomach. He bites on the inside of his mouth, holding back an immature whine. He has no energy for consoling anyone right now. 

“Um, hello, Mia,” he manages, pushing himself to utter his concern in the feeble hope he can deal with it later. Whatever it is that has the quiet girl so shaken, she’s latched onto him like a leech. “What’s wrong?”

“We missed you today,” Mia says, big blue eyes blinking up at him. “Are you in trouble?”

Face heating up at her confession, he finds enough strength to smile through his headache and locate his bottomless adoration for these kids. “I’m fine,” he says, ruffling her hair. They shouldn't have to worry about him too. 

“You can tell us if something is wrong,” Rita says. Her arms are crossed before her chest, and her chin is raised as she scowls. Her dark eyes are fierce. “Why is the newspaper spreading lies about you and Captain Levi?”

“I don't know, Rita,” Eren admits, nerves prickling at the reminder of what made his life into utter shit within a single day. “Because they’re ignorant, sensation-seeking bastards.” 

He takes a deep unsteady breath through his nose and forces his mouth shut, teeth pressing down on his tongue in his struggle to keep his eyes from turning blue. After hours of hurting and being pushed around, his temper yanks at his insides. He’s kept a tight reign over it in front of Claudio, yet the kids are the worst lightning rod for venting his frustration. No matter how raw he feels.

Harold chews on his lip with a frown. Now Eren notices his right cheekbone is swollen with a bright blooming bruise underneath. He blinks at it. Concern boxes its way through his haze of anger. The urge to blow off some steam dissipates into nothing, cast out by the far bigger instinct to protect his Cadets.

“What happened to you, Harold?” Eren asks, still enfolded within Mia’s embrace.

Rita snorts. “A branch hit him in his face. Like this.” She makes a smacking movement with her hand, crossing her eyes and wobbling for a moment.

Despite giving her a brief smile, Harold waves a hand. “It’s nothing. That Colonel wants you gone, though, doesn’t he?” he asks with a grim expression. “We heard him yelling that you should be locked away when we came in for lunch. They can’t just take you away from us. We won’t stand by and let that happen.”

“That’s right.” Rita nods. “I will tell my parents what’s going on, you know. And sis and Val. People can’t just tell stupid lies about you and Captain Levi and get away with it. The Titan wedding is the dumbest thing I heard all day. Everyone knows you can’t shift anymore. And Val told me you and Captain Levi are not marrying yet anyway, so why do people even argue about this?”

Scrubbing at his sore eyes at the wedding topic, Eren orders himself to find something close to diplomatic to reply when Mia’s arms squeeze tighter without warning, making him wheeze. For such a slip of a girl she’s got amazing strength.

“We don’t like you being lied about, Instructor Eren!” Mia sniffs with a raised voice. “It’s not fair that a liar is being believed over you. All you ever did is help us become better soldiers. Please don’t let anyone make you go away.” She blinks up at him, chin quivering, eyes brimming over, and Eren’s heart aches a moment before fierce determination sets in.

Colonel Claudio did this. He made these kids anxious because of his visit, his hatred, and his idiotic interrogations. He and that horrible journalist. They are hurting innocent people. Kids. Eren will make them pay for making Mia cry like this. 

Meanwhile Rita continues with her tirade. “I don’t believe that rumour about you leaving us to work in the café! That reporter must be touched in her head to believe something so stupid. You’d never consider abandoning us like that. Not even for the Captain, Sir.” 

Harold nods in agreement as Rita rants on. “We know you like to help wash the dishes to help Captain Levi close the shop, but that’s when you’re at home for the day. It doesn’t count.”

“Of course, I’m not going anywhere. No need to be upset,” Eren says whilst patting Mia’s head. 

“Only stating facts, Instructor Eren. And what do you think you’re gawking at?” Rita snaps at a passing pair of soldiers in Military Police jackets. “Damned spies,” she huffs as they scurry off. “They’ve been lurking around everywhere today. You can let him go now, Mia. They saw and heard enough.”

Eren stares at the girls, trying to assess what just happened. “Huh?”

Shooting him a conspiratorial smile, Mia pulls away and wipes her eyes. “We told you we won’t let you been taken away, Sir. We wanted to make sure they know that too.” She stomps her little foot, fists landing on her hips. “You’re shaky, Instructor Eren. Has the Colonel been mean to you? He looks scary enough. Do you need anything?”

When realisation sinks in, Eren feels so touched he has to struggle to keep his knees from wobbling. The kids won’t be able to change Claudio’s mind, but having their support and ongoing trust is the best news he’s heard all day. 

“It’s all right, Mia,” Eren replies, feeling light for the first time since he arrived at HQ this morning. Squeezing her shoulder in wordless thanks, he gives Mia an honest smile. “I can be scary too.”

She frowns and tilts her head, brows scrunching together. “How when you’re sick today?”

The question elicits a flimsy chuckle from Eren. “I’m not that sick, Mia. I can still be scary if I choose to be. Plus, I’m not afraid of the Colonel. Nor of his hatred of Titan shifters.”

“Told you, Mia,” Rita says with a derisive snort and a nose-wrinkling grimace. “That Colonel is an idiot. And a coward. I could smell it. I’m not afraid of him either.”

Mia gives them both a look that reminds Eren of Levi’s pointed stares whenever he was about to be lectured over indulging his most reckless side during the war.

In spite of feeling warmed by Rita’s open display of indignation, the hairs in Eren’s neck rise with warning, demanding him to shield them from harm. “You three stay away from Colonel Claudio, all right?” he says, keeping his voice as calm, yet insistent as he can. “No funny pranks, Rita. I mean it. The Colonel wants to cause me and Armin trouble because we’re shifters. And he’s looking for any chance to do so. People like him will twist your words and actions around. I don’t want you three involved.” 

“We won’t do anything bad, Instructor Eren,” Mia says, the promise in her voice mirroring in her earnest expression. “We swear to keep Rita from pulling anything that could cause trouble.”

“Thank you.” Eren looks at them, still wrestling with the unease of them bringing themselves in unneeded danger because of him. It skates as a chilly shudder down his arms, wanting to shake him through. 

He’s used to feeling cold when he’s depleted, but today the sensation borders upon ridiculous. Even the lit hearth in Hanji’s office wasn’t able to cast the shivers out entirely. Now that its heat is gone, the chilly exhaustion gnaws at Eren’s bones even more. His migraine worsens by the second as well, pressing against his temples and the vertebrae in his nape like a tightening bench vice. 

“But we want to help,” Rita says. “And we’ll do what we can.”

While Harold makes an agreeing sound, Mia’s brows knit further together. “We don’t like seeing you sad. And the Commander hasn’t looked well today either. Is she all right?”

“Commander Hanji will be fine,” Eren says. He is about to add he will be too if he can go home, when Harold speaks up. 

“Instructors Connie and Sasha are really angry about all the lies spreading around too. Instructor Sasha said Captain Levi will know what to do.”

Rita huffs. “Of course, he will. He’s the best! Humanity’s Strongest Soldier isn’t a title handed out to any old dummy. I bet he’d like to kick that idiot out of here as much as I want to. He doesn't like morons either.” She grins up at Eren. “We’re still happy you moved in together. You’ve both been smiling more often the last few days.” Her nose wrinkles as she narrows her eyes. “Well. Mostly. Right now you look like shit. Is it the symptoms? Should we fetch the Commander or your sister for you?”

Eren shakes his head. Mikasa’s overbearing concern is the last thing he wants to deal with right now. “No, Rita. I'll be fine. I–” 

“Will you be back in class tomorrow, Instructor Eren, Sir?” Mia asks. 

“Probably not,” Eren sighs, stomach clenching at their crestfallen looks. “I’ll be back as quick as I can convince the Colonel I’m not going to rampage through town in my Titan form and hurt anyone.”

“We know,” Rita says and brightens up. “Dad says hello by the way. Your chair will come this week. I saw it yesterday. I’ve been wanting to tell you since morning. You’ll like it. It’s real pretty.”

“Thank you, Rita. That was quicker than I expected.” 

She pushes her hands onto her hips and lifts her dark brows in an “oh, really,” look that is supposed to lecture him. “Dad is always quick with his work. He’s the best upholsterer in this area. Don't you and Captain Levi talk? He padded all the chairs and stools for the Sparrow, you know?”

Forcing a smile, that on any other day would come as easy to him as breathing, Eren nods. “Yeah, I heard. And they’re all wonderful.” 

“Of course they are,” she retorts, grinning again. “Anyway. You can count on my family for whatever you need. We’ll help straighten out the lies. We haven't forgotten what you did for us during the war. And you’re nice too.”

Harold and Mia’s eager nods are interrupted by a patronising call that has Eren sighing. 

“Eren. There you are.”

Well, he thinks, that ends any chance of escaping Mikasa. He should have known she’d find him. She’s always had a talent for tracking him down whenever he least wants it.

Restraining himself to not fly off the handle with the kids present, Eren closes his eyes. Why can’t she let him be? It’s not too much to ask for, is it? He opens his eyes, trying his best to keep his voice composed as he shoots Rita a pleading look. “We can talk again tomorrow, all right? Now off you go.”

Rita nods and shoots him a commiserating grimace. “See you soon, Instructor Eren.” 

After Mia gives Eren another brief hug, to which he replies with a pat on her back, they salute and head towards the dorms. Almost wishing he could follow, Eren watches them hurry around a corner as the pair of steps at his back come to a halt. 

“We’ve been looking for you,” Mikasa says.

“What do you want?” he snarls, turns around to face her and Jean at her side, whose light brown eyebrows furrow into a scowl that tells Eren exactly what’s about to come. 

“You look like shit, mate.”

Close to bursting out of his skin, he scoffs. “Fuck off, I fucking know, all right.” Eren pushes through them, needing to leave. 

A part of him knows it’s the day’s tension messing with his temper and making him this wound up. It also isn’t Jean or Mikasa’s fault his head feels ready to split apart. Yet he’s had enough. The part of him that kept it together with Colonel Claudio seethes to take his frustration out on them. He needs to go. Longs to hear Levi’s grounding voice and feel the reassuring contact of feet pressing against feet beneath the dining table.

“Eren, wait! You really don’t look well,” Mikasa points out, and in spite of all his intentions, something in the way she states the bloody obvious is the last straw. 

Eren whips back around. He needs to kick something, or throw something, but there’s nothing there, so he does the only thing he can do. He explodes. 

“Yes, I look like shit!” he yells, arms lashing out and forward from his sides. “Congratulations for pointing that out, and guess what? I feel like it too. And when are you not looking for me, Mikasa? It’s like I’m your fucking child! Can’t you just leave me alone for once? Should I report to you every day when I come and go now? Is that it?”

Mikasa steps back, hands burying in the folds of her scarf. “No, I–”

“All I want is for you leave me alone for once!” Eren bellows. Now that the words are spilling out of his mouth, he can’t stop them from coming. They break out like some bursting bubble in his chest has to empty first before he can breathe again. “Isn’t it bad enough I got yelled at for existing all day long without you mothering me afterwards? I’m twenty-one years old for fuck’s sake! Start living your own life and leave me be! I’m sick of being pushed around. No!” He resists when Jean steps closer, eyes grim and serious. 

“Jean,” Mikasa says, approaching too as if to intervene.

Eren struggles, ready to counterattack, but instead of striking out, Jean grabs Eren by his neck, and gives him a little shake alongside a tug to pull him near. “Calm down, mate.”

“Let me go!” Eren protests. He tries to free himself, yet Jean is as strong as him on his best day, stronger when Eren’s ill, and there’s no chance.

“Not before you stop and listen to yourself,” Jean says with a firm tone before he performs another decisive shake. “If you need to blow off some steam, fine. Take it out on me. I could use it today too. After all this fucking shit happening, we both want to hit something. Even so, I’d rather not punch you when you look like you’d go down without me even having to try.”

He’s so close his breath fans hot over Eren’s face, and all Eren can see is Jean’s eyes. They look at him with quick searching movements beneath an observant frown, displaying nothing but fearless composure. “Come on,” Jean says, hand on Eren’s neck, voice calm. His honest concern makes the hot pressure in Eren’s heaving chest pop, right with his anger. 

It drains his body within a cold shiver down his thighs, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion and the familiar sensation of his brain catching up with his actions after doing something mindless. Beginning to shake, Eren deflates, close to tears. 

“I just want to go home,” he whines, holding on to Jean’s arms for much-needed balance as his knees threaten to give in.

“I know,” Jean says, tugging Eren closer with a steadying slap on his back. His jacket smells of soap and a day outside, clearing Eren’s head. “We know. It’s all right.” He lets Eren go with a final whack on his shoulder, and they part, stepping out of each other’s personal space. 

Sniffing as he blinks against his fast-blurring vision, Eren nods at the floor, avoiding Jean and Mikasa’s eyes. His own words echo in his mind, and the impact hits him like a kick into his guts. He behaved like an absolute arse. There’s no excuse for it, even if he didn’t mean what he said. In the turmoil of emotions, sickening guilt crawls up his chest, pressing against his pulse. If he doesn’t say anything to break the silence soon, he’ll throw up. So Eren clears his throat.

“What do you want?” he asks once more, though in comparison to before there is no bite in the question. 

“Checking to see whether you’re okay,” Jean replies. 

The answer sounds so ridiculous Eren scrubs his burning face with a slightly hysteric chuckle. “You know what, Jean? I’ve felt better.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” Jean says through a scowl. “We figured from that lovely speech. You’re wobbling too.” Jean and Mikasa share a look Eren cannot decipher with his throbbing skull.

“Oh, fuck you,” Eren shoots back, the retort leaving him in a venom-free sigh. 

How he wishes they’d cut this short so he can get out of here. He can already hear Levi poking the fireplace in their living room and smell the resinous kindling and the fir cones Levi likes to add in the evenings. Maybe Eren could sit in the corduroy chair while Levi scribbles in his ledger, warmed, fed, and cosy. He’d look into the flickering flames to let them lull him to sleep.

“Did Colonel Claudio only let you go a few minutes ago?” Mikasa asks. 

Eren nods, wiping his hands down his face to subdue a spasm. 

“Irresponsible. Did you have anything to eat since morning? You weren’t at lunch.” Mikasa thrusts an already unwrapped protein bar under his nose. “Here.”

“I’ll be fine,” Eren complains, but snatches the snack out of her hand. An instant remorseful pang ripples through his chest at Jean’s disagreeing snort. 

“Oh, shut up,” Eren mutters. “Thanks. And I had lunch. Levi sent us something over, plus I had one of these in my pocket.” He holds the bar aloft. 

“Good.” Mikasa nods. “You need more to stop the shakes. Eat.”

He rolls his eyes, yet obeys. She will force it down his throat if he doesn’t eat it himself, and she’s right anyway. His mouth waters at the mere thought of food, let alone at the sight. The effect is immediate, lifting the worst unsteadiness in his knees as soon as the first bite hits his stomach. 

“Sorry for yelling,” he mumbles around another bite.

“Yeah,” Jean snorts and folds his arms, “because that’s something new.”

“I didn’t mean you, Smartypants,” Eren snaps before meeting Mikasa’s gaze. 

“Forget about it.” Her lips twitch in a small smile, easing the spiky knot in Eren’s chest. 

Her amusement is probably more directed at Jean’s comment than his apology, but he takes what he can get. Managing a remorseful smile in return, Eren tends back to his food, the relieved puff of breath sending a few dry bar crumbs flying. 

“He wants to talk to you,” he remembers out loud with his mouth full.

“Levi?” Mikasa frowns. “Because of Colonel Claudio?” 

“No.” Eren shakes his head, chewing the rest of his insufficient snack. “Because of the symptoms.”

Jean’s scowl darkens into a glower, whereas Mikasa’s eyes assume a knowing glint. “Sick last night? Explains why you’re so pale. How bad was it?”

Sighing, Eren wards off her hand with a powerless slap as she reaches out to feel his brow. “Only the usual, Mikasa. He wants to talk to you and make sure it’s all right.”

She narrows her eyes and exhales before she replies with a small shake of her head. “He didn’t know before, did he?”

Shrugging, Eren doesn’t answer. Now that he had a bit to eat, his stomach remembers how hungry he is. His guts churn in need for more, and the coldness creeps back into his bones, more forceful than it was before. 

“Did you really think you could keep this a secret from him?” Mikasa asks, eyes darkening like thunderclouds gathering. 

“What? No!” Eren snaps, pressing the heels of his hands into his closed eyes for a moment to keep his bubbling temper in check. “I didn’t want to trouble him for no good reason, Mikasa.”

“I doubt he sees it that way, Eren,” she insists in an exasperation-laced tone.

Levi standing next to him in the bathroom comes to Eren’s mind—grey eyes wild, breath too shallow, voice a bit too steady as if forced—and Eren squeezes his lips shut. He will not argue about this with Mikasa. The debate will lead to nowhere.

“Let it go, okay?” Eren says, prickliness making way for nothing but numb fatigue. 

His fingertips search for the assurance of Levi’s love bites that were there a few hours ago before he remembers they have been consumed by the strain of the day. Prodding against the unmarked skin with a sharp twist of loss somewhere in his midriff, Eren doesn’t know which is worse. That he didn’t have the energy left to keep them from healing, or that it feels like they were never even there to begin with. 

“How was the interrogation?” Jean asks with a chin jerk into the direction of Hanji’s office. 

Shoulders sagging, Eren seizes the change of topic. “I don’t know,” he sighs. “Long. Fucking stupid. Redundant.”

Jean harrumphs. “That arrogant prick. You should have seen him at lunch, sneering into his soup. Round two tomorrow?”

“Seems like it,” Eren says, scratching his upper right arm through the thick layers of his jacket and shirt to repress another depletion shudder. The accompanying yawn forces its way out nonetheless as he adds, “Right after breakfast.” 

Mikasa nods. When she speaks again, her voice is mild. “We’ll ask Hanji if we can do anything to help. And Erika and Tom too. You should go home though. You need your rest, and Levi must be worried.”

“He always worries,” Eren sighs, looking down at his feet as a lump forms in his throat. “He worries too much.”

“That’s not a bad thing, Eren,” Mikasa replies with a small smile and a squeeze of his shoulder. “Go home before you drop. Get some sleep. We’ll go speak to Levi as soon as we can.”

“Thanks,” he says with a defeated nod, only catching the  _ we _ in her words and Jean’s affirmative nod when they’re already gone, and he stands in the empty corridor. Alone with his pounding skull. Finally free to go home.

 

*

 

The fresh December air, albeit cold, is utter bliss as Eren steps outside. Dragging it deep into his lungs, he lets the muted noises from HQ wash over him without listening as the door closes. Much needed muffling brings instant, if not complete relief. After eight hours of Claudio's treatment plus his own yelling attack, his ears ring and the street lamps leading his way sting in his eyes with bright blurry lights.

A gust of wind tugs on him, making his hair whip around his face. He shuts his eyes against the frosty bite. Ten minutes, Eren tells himself as another jolt of pain zings through his head, followed by a protesting growl of his stomach. Ten minutes, and he can finally sit, have a long overdue cup of tea, and look into steadying grey eyes to make sure Levi is all right. 

He must have had an as abominable day as Eren has. Erika dropped off his and Hanji’s care package, including the signed declaration, with a grim scowl that told Eren more than any explanation could. Whereas a year ago Eren had the mere suspicion Claudio had sacked Levi because of personal reasons, now it’s all too clear his assumptions were right. Any other person talking about Levi the way Claudio did today would have had Eren’s knife to their throat or his fist in their face. It’s taken everything he has within to not shut Claudio up. Eren can only hope Claudio and his men won’t pester Levi too much at his café during their stay in town.

Maybe, he thinks with a twist in his guts, maybe he should move back out after all. Moving in together only gives Levi trouble. Trouble with Eren’s symptoms waking him up at odd hours. Trouble with gossipping customers, with the press, and now even larger trouble with Supreme Commander Zackley and Colonel Claudio. 

About half his way to the café, another windy gust sends the scent of overcooked cabbage up Eren’s nose. He falters in his steps, holding one palm against his temple, the other arm pressing against his rebelling stomach. A moment later, images flood his vision, accompanied by long-faded screams and voices. Too strong to keep them out. 

A dog mauling a little girl. 

Impotent rage. 

A massacre at a church.

Needles. Shaking hands. Pain and lightning. A kid shouting for his father. Shrilling at him in the night. Voice hoarse from heartache. Rebelling against ceaseless tears.

Bones breaking between gargantuan teeth. 

Eren sways in his steps, the world blurring out. 

“Shit,” he groans through a cramp in his head. Oh, please not here. Not in the middle of the street. 

“Eren?” A concerned voice comes somewhere from his right. It's followed by a gasp and footsteps hurrying closer. “Eren, oh, no! Are you all right?” 

Hands grab his arm, soft yet strong, as the friendly voice cuts through his thoughts. “Can you hear me, dear?”

“Magda?” he croaks. 

“Oh my, you don’t look well at all.” Her kind hand rubs his back before Magda takes hold of his elbow. “Come on, dear, we'll get you home.”

Home. It sounds wonderful. Five more minutes to walk. He can do this. 

“Just give me a moment,” Eren says, stretching out an arm. “It’s nothing bad.”

She tuts. “Oh, hogwash. You’re pale as a sheet and you’re shivering.”

“Happens all the time,” Eren mumbles, wrangling with the memories and strange voices wanting to close in on him. “Just need to sit down.” 

“Of course, dear. You know what? Why don’t you come in for a moment? Come on, it’s only a few steps to our back entrance. I’ll make you a nice hot toddy to heat you up.”

Whatever it is that makes Eren nod and cling on to her, there is a somehow familiar flowery scent to Magda’s coat, and every bit of remaining resistance crumbles into helpless defeat. Nodding, he leans into her steady grip, following her a dozen staggering steps before she opens the back door to her shop and tows him into the warm, well-lit room. 

A fire crackles nearby, embracing Eren with its blissful heat as his body goes pliant and careless to whatever happens next. It would be wonderful to fall asleep right here where he stands. 

“That’s good. Now sit,” Magda says with a squeeze of his arm, pressing him down onto the heavenly softness of a comfortable chair. “We will have you back on your feet in no time. Better to rest here than outside anyway. Not with all these strangers about these days. Here, take this for now.” A glass of water is pressed into his unsteady fingers. 

“Drink, dear,” Magda instructs. For a woman this sweet and homy she’s got a surprising determination and business-like tone of command. “I’ll make you a strong toddy to get you back onto your feet.” She pats his shoulder as he takes a sip.

“Eren?” Val’s voice sounds, and Eren blinks up into the familiar freckled face looking at him with a rare frown. 

When did he come into the room?

“What happened, Ma?” Val asks. 

Magda throws her coat over Eren’s shoulder and oh, it’s good. “I found him like this on the street. Something isn’t right.”

“I’m fine,” Eren says after swallowing another big gulp of water. He tries to rise, yet Magda presses him back into the seat as a new shard of pain flashes in Eren’s head. He hisses, wincing. 

“Close the shop, Val,” Magda says, already clanking with dishware at the sink. “We don’t need nosy people in here right now.” 

Footsteps hasten away, followed by the characteristic snap of a lock. 

“And fetch him some chocolate,” Magda calls over her shoulder. 

“Huh?” Eren asks, yet Val already rummages around in the staff department. Searching the boxes on the shelves. 

He reappears at Eren’s side and after a bit of rustling, he offers a half-unwrapped slab of chocolate with a “Here, Eren.” 

“No. No chocolate,” Eren protests but it comes out as a weak mumble. Val pushes the candy into his hand, though, and Eren’s body reacts on its own, clinging onto the food for dear life. “I just had a protein bar. No trouble…”

“Oh, shush. You’re no trouble, dear. And chocolate is much better for you than that nasty military stuff,” Magda says. “It will get rid of the pain and trembles far quicker. It’s good for the soul too.”

Eren takes a careful, tiny bite and holds back a whimpered sigh. Cocoa and bittersweetness coat his tongue right before the sugar rushes into his system like a flood, turning on lights in his head and making him shudder in relief. 

“Did something bad happen, Eren?” Val’s voice mingles with a spoon clinking against clay to Eren’s right. “Did someone hurt you? Is it the strange men in town?”

Eren realises he’s crying when a big hot drop pats on his knee, followed by another one. And another. 

“Don’t push for answers, Val,” Magda says, nudging Val aside who retreats with a mumbled “Sorry.”

“Just…Titan symptoms,” Eren says through chattering teeth as Magda wrests the empty glass of water from his grip to trade it with a handkerchief. “Tired.” He wipes his face, though the tears won’t stop falling. “Hurts.” The handkerchief’s soft fabric feels like it’s grating on his skin. “Happens on occasion.” Then he falls silent, preferring to not stutter or let on how close he is to fainting. He must stay awake. He managed so well all day long…

Magda is back at his side, pressing a heated mug into Eren’s hand. Staring into the amber-coloured liquid, he doesn’t dare to lift it to his lips. What if the cup slips from his fingers and breaks? Its weight feels like heavy lead in his grip and the uplifting, fresh scent wafting up his nose is like a thick barrier he can’t break through. He sniffs. A tear falls into his cup, disturbing the surface with a quiet ‘drip.’ 

“It’s all right, dear,” Magda says rubbing his shoulder. “You’re safe here. Drink.”

“Levi,” Eren splutters under a gasp. Another shudder breaks off the rest of the sentence and makes his drink swash in its mug, but Magda understands. 

“Val, go to the Sparrow and tell Captain Levi Eren is here. Ask him if he knows what to do because Eren is having Titan symptoms. And take your jacket. It’s cold.”

Nodding, Val rushes off to another door, and passes them again, wrapped in dark cloth while Magda produces a second chair to sit next to Eren with a creak of old wood. She doesn’t say anything, though Eren can sense her attentive gaze on him. 

Under her scrutiny, he somehow manages to take a cautious sip of his drink. The sweetened mint instantly refreshes his system. It tastes like comfort, like liquid life, and new tears flood his eyes, set free by the soothing, sharp flavour.

The glaze-bellied clay mug in his hands is spreading wonderful warmth. Eren runs his thumb over the rough unglazed bottom edge to have something to focus on. He must remain awake. “How did you know…symptoms?” he stammers. 

“You just told us, dear,” Magda says. 

Eren sniffs. “I did?”

Magda purses her lips, but instead of pestering him with questions, she takes a sip from her own cup, waiting for Eren to collect himself. 

“Sorry for causing you trouble,” he says when he thinks he can trust his voice again.

“You aren’t, dear. I told you last week you can always come here if you need anything, and that includes this. Have some more tea. It will warm you through and clear your head. It eases cramps and headaches as well.”

Eren nods, yet detects a distinctive bite to the scent as he lifts the cup and frowns into the aromatic steam. “I don’t stomach whisky too well,” he admits. 

“I don’t either,” Magda says with a mildness to her voice. “I only added a spoonful to your cup. Just enough to warm you up and get the honey and herbs working quicker. Regard it as medicine. Your hands are ice cold.”

“They are? Oh.” Eren takes another sip and sighs as the heat rises from the pit of his stomach to spread into his chest and arms, igniting his bones. “Thank you,” he says under a new flood of tears. He wipes them away.

Her nails clink on the clay as she taps her fingers on her cup. “You mentioned these symptoms happen when you’re tired.” She says it without making it into a question, and Eren reaches for a weak smile. 

“Usually once a month. Normally not this sudden or bad though.”

“I know about this Colonel arriving here yesterday,” she says, sounding so frosty Eren peers up at her, almost expecting to see someone else in her seat. “Did he do this to you?”

“Not entirely,” Eren says, clearing his throat. Since he has already revealed the reason he is ill, he might as well explain. He owes Magda that much for all her kind help, even if that means telling her restricted information he shouldn’t give away. “It’s the serum wearing off. And it was a long day. The serum keeps the deadly side effects of being a shifter in remission, but I have a couple more days before I can take my next dose. I’ll be fine soon, Magda.”

She hums and takes a sip of her toddy. “Awful things in the newspaper. You can’t live peacefully when tall stories like this go around, causing a racket. It’s horrible.”

Eren shakes his head. “I don’t care about the lies.”

“But that Colonel sure does,” Magda states in another not-question. “Two of his men were here today. Can you believe it? Just because they heard Rita is family and hoped they could stir up some dirt. Not with us though. You’d never do anything to harm those kids. Anyone with eyes in their head and half a brain could tell.” 

She sighs and shakes her head as she continues. “The higher-ups should check in their own ranks if you ask me. Nasty and irresponsible folks if they cause distress instead of leaving you and the Trainees alone. I told them to leave if they knew what was healthy for them. You should have seen Luca. He rarely gets angry but he told them his own share. Val was furious too when we told him what happened. What do they have against you anyway?”

Feeling small and unfit in his comfortable chair, Eren scowls. “He doesn’t like me. Wants to get rid of me. I think it’s because I am what I am. And I don’t care about that either but…” he trails off, shrugging.

Magda hums. “But you’re not the only one affected by it?” 

Taking Eren’s silence as affirmation, she takes a breath and pats Eren’s knee. “You do know you’re not responsible for others’ actions, dear, don’t you? Val struggles with this sometimes, and I always tell him how nonsensical it is. Besides, the Captain can take care of himself.”

“I know,” Eren says, taking comfort in the heat from the cup in his hands and the jacket draped around his shoulders. They’re like a shield against the night outside and the voices in his head. “I just don’t want him to worry about me all the time. He always worries about me.”

“Of course, he does,” Magda says, and Eren can tell she’s smiling before he looks up to meet her eyes. “He loves you.”

Frowning, Eren searches her kind features before casting his head down again to hide his tear-streaked face. “I don’t want to cause him problems,” he mumbles, more to himself than to her. “I already did enough of that. I’m not even human.”

“Oh, don’t be a silly goose, Eren,” Magda says. “Of course, you are human. So what if you were turned into a Titan so you could save us all? Doesn’t change your humanity in this town’s mind.”

When he remains silent, she tuts. “Isn’t worrying about you for Captain Levi and the rest of us to decide? I worry about my children and Luca all the time, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. And they worry about me in return. It’s what family does. Same with you. I can’t watch you be in pain without helping. We will always have your back. Yours and the Captain’s, just like Rita’s. You’re one of us, dear. We have to take care of one another.” 

The last words in combination with a burst of pain in his head are too much. Eren’s eyes brim over with renewed scalding salt, and two big tears roll over his cheeks to drop onto his lap before he can wipe them away. His chest cringes with a single choking sob as the pain flares across his whole body, and the next thing he knows, the cup is pried out of his hands before he’s enfolded into a soft embrace.

“Shh. Oh, my dear. It’s all right. I’m here.” 

Eren’s arms move on their own to wrap around Magda in return. Reduced to nothing but pain, he doesn’t care she’s practically a stranger, or that this should be embarrassing, or that he’s behaving like a child again. He suddenly feels like one while Magda feels like warm wool and pristine kindness. The slight rocking movements as her hands stroke his back seem the only thing that’s holding him together right now as the tears fall and fall. Unchecked. Silent. 

“You can always come to me,” Magda croons as his head starts to clear, patting his hair as she lets him snivel against her narrow shoulders. “You hear me, dear? Always.”

Unable to reply, he nods, and then his vision blurs completely while she lets him cling on to her, still cradling him gently, rocking him from side to side until the tears run out, leaving him dry. He doesn’t even know how much time passes, but the world comes back to his senses and the cramps in his head and stomach abate.  

“I’m okay,” he says when pulls back to wipe his face. “Sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to apologise for,” Magda says. “Besides. A good crying never hurt anyone. And I mean it. We’re here for you. Both of you, whatever you need.”

Eren nods, sniffing pitifully as he dries his eyes before swallowing down the wet lump in his throat. 

“I should go home,” he realises.

“Drink your tea toddy first. I won’t let you go out into the streets while you are shaking like this. What will people think of me? Here.” She stands with a pat on his shoulder to give him some space. “Have more of that chocolate too. It will make your heart smile again.”

Eren obeys. He still sits, near-empty cup in his hand, when the back door to the staff department opens, and Eren hears an all too familiar “fuck!” that must be the most wonderful sound in the world, followed by hurrying footsteps. He struggles up to his feet when Levi stands before him, cheeks dusted with colour from the cold, eyes sharp, black coat matching his neat hair. Beautiful. Eren nearly sinks back down at the sight. Or into Levi’s arms. He doesn’t care how it would look right now and can’t do anything against his hands reaching for Levi’s coat, closing the distance on their own.

“What did he do to you?” Levi’s voice is cold and murderous, yet his fingers are gentle as they brush a strand of hair out of Eren’s brow, and a concerned frown shadows his eyes. 

“Nothing,” Eren says, holding Levi’s gaze with a wavering smile and taking his hand in his, mesmerised. He’s really here. “He didn’t do anything.” 

Silver flashes in grey eyes, like a pair of daggers. “The fuck he didn’t.”

“We’ll be in the shop,” Magda says, shoving Val out of the room. “Take as much time as you need, you two. I made something hot to drink, Captain. It’s in the pot. Feel free to have a cup.” 

The door closes behind her, and Levi and Eren are alone. 

“What did he do?” Levi demands, tugging Eren back down onto the chair and squatting between his knees. “Hanji only told me he was worse than the usual arse.”

Eren shakes his head, fingers wrapping around Levi’s as all his remaining defences slip away. “He was. It just was a bit too much all in all.”

Squeezing his hands, Levi frowns. “Val said Magda found you on the street.” 

Incapable of averting his eyes from Levi, Eren swallows. “I got a migraine burst on my way home.” 

“Blackouts?”

“Almost,” Eren admits. “I told Magda about the symptoms without realising I said anything. Guess I was out of it.”

One hand lifts from his grip before Levi’s cool fingers press against his forehead. He smells like home and December night. “How’s it now?”

“Better.” Eren smiles with a stuttering heart and nuzzles into the touch that makes blissful stillness settle around them, to wrap them like a cocoon.

“Your hands are cold.” Levi searches Eren’s face. 

“Yours are still colder.” 

“That’s hardly the point,” Levi chides. 

“I’m just so glad to see you,” Eren says with a small shrug, eyes threatening tears rise anew at the truth. 

“You should have stayed at your old quarters. This shit isn’t good, Eren.” Levi’s words are accompanied by a scowl, and as they sink in, Eren’s heart plummets through the chair.

Of course. 

The tears tighten his throat after all, and he hates them, hates them so much. He knew this was inevitable, so why does it feel as though he’s being torn apart?

Gulping down his emotions, he nods in defeat, retrieving his hands and avoiding to meet Levi’s eyes. He can’t let him see how much it hurts. “I’ll recollect my stuff then,” he presses out. 

He tries to stand with numb legs, but Levi holds him back. 

“Eren.” Levi goes quiet. “Eren, look at me.”

Jaw clenched shut, Eren does. He looks at Levi’s face. At his worried eyes, his lips that press together in concern and twitch at one corner in a compunctious way that tells of misunderstanding. At the little line on his brow that softens in wordless reparation as Levi’s thumb traces his cheekbone.

“You can be such an idiot. I meant to rest until the symptoms eased.”

The comment makes Eren stare, before his smiled chuckle breaks the silence in the face of all logic. “That’s not funny,” he chides himself. But then a pressure-releasing wheeze escapes his lungs, followed by a fit of hysteric heaving, somewhere between sobbing and snickering. He leans forward to stifle it against Levi’s neck, and Levi holds him there, waiting for Eren to shake his relief out. 

Levi’s cool fingers dive into Eren’s hair and apply tender pressure to his scalp. Just strong enough to make it feel good, and gentle enough to not enhance the headache still lingering at the edges of Eren’s skull.

“I need to stop crying,” Eren mumbles when he pulls away, wiping his eyes and nose with a sniff. “I got snot on your coat.”

“It’ll wash out.” A mild frown tugs on Levi’s brows as he pulls Eren into a brief kiss, his tongue grazing once over Eren’s in a single reassuring swipe. “Let’s get you home.” Levi stills, leans back, narrows his eyes, and licks his lips before his eyebrows lift. “Booze?” 

Shrugging, Eren clears his throat. “Magda added some to the mint. She said it wasn’t much but I think it helped. The cramps and headaches aren’t as bad anymore. She gave me chocolate too.”

“Mm.” Brushing another strand of hair out of Eren’s eyes, Levi rolls back on his heels and stands. “Finish it. I’ll talk to her for a moment.” 

While Eren reaches for his cup again, Levi steps towards the customer area of the shop where Magda and Val went. His coat moves behind him as he walks, its hem waving around his heels. “Good evening, Magda,” he says.

“Hello Captain Levi,” sounds Magda’s greeting through the door before it closes behind Levi with a quiet click. “Is Eren feeling better?”

Warmth spreads in Eren chest at the realisation her voice comes from the other end of the shop, as though she wanted to give Levi and him as much privacy as possible. 

Closing his eyes as he blends out the muffled talk for a moment, he recollects himself and takes another bite of chocolate to wash it down with more herbal brew. While he finishes the toddy, he looks around himself for the first time since Magda brought him inside. 

The room is big and as cosy as the chair he’s sitting in. A small hearth with an adjacent sink stands on one side. On the other a couple of shelves, similar to those in Levi’s staff department, only that they are filled with different kinds of boxes and goods. A besom rests against one wall, its branches bent by usage and from resting the wrong way for too long. Next to it, a small wicker basket with cream-coloured knitting work waits to be picked up. 

A scratchy drawing of a smiling sun is pinned to a wall. Lace drapes are tied to both sides of the window. A bowl with dried flowers stands on the wooden ledge, spreading the same sweet, summer-promising scent that Eren caught on Magda’s coat earlier. He stares at it, thoughts drifting away. 

His mother loved potpourri too. She used to dip her hand into the bowl in the kitchen to whirl up the scent. A lack of dust on the leaves makes him wonder if Magda has a similar habit.

Resisting the curious urge to disturb the petals as well, Eren stands to wash his empty cup. As the water runs over his hands, a note on top of the working surface next to the sink catches his eyes. He doesn’t want to pry about, though his own name makes Eren stop in his movement and look twice. 

‘Tell Eren about chicken fry,’ reads wavy, narrow handwriting. ‘Butter, thyme, cream, mushrooms. Pepper. Nutmeg. No honey.’ A seam in the paper indicates the note must have been folded in half once, though now it’s laying open, revealing its secrets. 

Swallowing, Eren blinks at it until a smile builds inside to wrap around his heart. After setting the cleaned and dripping cup onto a small rack to dry, he wipes his hands on his trousers before he folds the note back together, using his nail to make it last. He won’t betray Magda’s kindness by telling her he knows about it. 

He stuffs the empty chocolate paper into his pockets, and after placing Magda’s chair back to where it was before, he follows Levi, Magda’s jacket slung over his arm. 

The first thing he spots is a couple of beeswax candles laying on the shop’s countertop and a small glass flask that Levi drops into his coat pocket with a faint smirk. The second thing is the bright crimson on Val’s face and a flustered Magda who is fumbling with some string to tie the candles together. 

Granting Levi a questioning look, he only receives a smile and a small motion of his hand  _ not now,  _ so Eren turns to Magda.

“Thank you for the drink and chocolate. I cleaned the cup, but I didn’t see any towel.” 

She waves at his words, her expression as she faces him changing from pure delight to first concern then relief within a heartbeat. “Oh, you needn’t have. That wasn’t necessary at all, dear. Truly. But thank you. And I must say, I’m glad to see you look less pale around the eyes already. Do you need anything to eat? You both must be hungry after today.”

As if on cue, Eren’s stomach growls. “We’ve still got stew, I think.” At Levi’s affirming hum, he hands over her jacket yet Magda pushes it back into his arms with a pat on his hand. 

“Oh, no, keep it for the walk home. It’s nippy out. You can bring it back tomorrow or I’ll send Val to pick it up.”

“Oh,” Eren says. “Thank you.”

“Yes,” Levi says. “Whatever you need, Magda.”

She smiles as she waves her hand, a delighted blush colouring her cheeks. “Oh, it wasn’t any trouble, Captain. I’m glad I found him and could help.” Her eyes blink and her short mouse blond curls bounce around her head. “Now shoo! Home with you. It was a long day, and you need your rest.”


	6. Safe

The unsettling cabbage scent is gone when they leave through the front door. All that’s left is the relaxing force of Levi’s presence as Eren walks beside him through the streets. With the chocolate and tea still coursing in his blood, his legs feel steadier again. The sensation enhances when Levi’s hand reaches for his, cool fingers threading through his without hesitation to hold on tight.

Eren gulps, blinking down at their linked hands and gives a grateful squeeze, pulse jumping as Levi’s thumb brushes over his own. They may not do public displays of affection, no. This, though, this is a statement, and going by Levi’s sharp gaze as he looks ahead, it’s also a warning for everyone else to stay the fuck away. 

Eren moves alongside Levi’s steps, will-less, tired, and heart so full it almost hurts while their shoes tap on the snow-free cobblestones.

“Hanji said you did good today,” Levi says. A tiny smile is in his voice, making Eren swallow at the praise.

“You mentioned her before. She was with you?” 

Levi nods as they turn around a corner. “Mm. I sent her home when Val found us, right along with the other customers. She needs the rest too. Didn’t look like she got much sleep last night either.”

“You closed early?” Eren’s smile dissolves into a frown as an uncomfortable lump creeps up his throat to lay there, spreading a heavy ache. “Sorry.”

Levi holds on tighter. “Don't be. Was a shit-busy day and almost closing time anyway.”

A pair of soldiers in Military Police jackets cross their way and stare at their joined hands. Levi shoots them a glare, and they scurry off, whispering to one another. 

“Tch.”

Eren looks after them, yet directs his sight back to where they go when his shuffling feet knock against a protruding cobblestone, making him stumble. “You know them?”

“New customers,” Levi explains, fingers relaxing after they fastened their grip to keep Eren from falling. The reply sounds like an insult, and Eren’s senses perk up.

“Interesting day?” 

Levi snorts. “You could call it that.”

When they reach the café, Levi opens the door with his keys, and Eren sighs as he steps inside, instantly enveloped by the scent of home. The street lamps from outside are the only source of light, casting the Sparrow into peaceful shadows and dark comfort. It’s while Levi locks the door behind them that Eren picks up on the untidy arrangement of disorderly chairs and abandoned dishes suggesting a hasty leave. 

Nudging Eren forward, Levi doesn’t bother giving the disarray another look. “I’ll clean it tomorrow.”

Too tired to object, Eren nods and trudges up the staircase. They free themselves from their winter clothes, Eren finding balance against the wall while he struggles out of his boots.

“Dinner, dessert, tub, and bed for you?” Levi asks. His hands reach for Eren’s hip, and Eren closes his tired eyes. 

A small huff puffs against his face when he bends down to rest his brow against Levi’s, basking in the moment. “No,” he mumbles, opening his eyes again. “Not without you.”

A frown creases Levi’s brow, and a moment later, he stretches up to make their lips meet. Eren sighs, hands searching for support on Levi’s shirt and eventually settling for Levi’s narrow waist as Levi’s lips send prickling heat over his own. Levi’s mouth opens, warm, wet, and wonderful, as his tongue slips into Eren’s mouth, licking, stroking, erasing the strain of the day until the whole world reduces to “good,” “Levi,” and “yes.” 

Sinking into it, Eren kisses back, shuddering with delight when Levi meets him with steady, demanding control, guiding Eren’s mind back to safe grounds and blissful sanity. It feels like their last kiss was ages ago, and Eren drags it out, clinging to the soft smooth fabric over warm chiselled muscles. Searching for more of Levi saturating his lungs with his taste.

It’s Levi who pulls back, letting Eren chase him with one final, lazy swipe of tongues before they break apart. At Levi’s questioning look, Eren smiles, his thumbs rubbing circles onto Levi’s shirt-covered stomach. 

“I just want normalcy,” he explains. There is no way he’ll go to sleep without Levi in his arms tonight. “After some food I’ll feel better. The bed’s too big without you anyway.” 

Levi blinks, gaze turning soft a heartbeat before he folds Eren into an embrace with a muffled exhale against Eren’s chest. Eren holds him there. Buries his nose in Levi’s hair like he’d been dreaming about all day long. He drags the familiar scent deep into his lungs until it’s a part of him again instead of some distant memory. Levi’s muscular arms hold tight in return, filling him with strength and long-missed repose. 

“Okay,” Levi says when they part. After giving Eren another peck on the lips, he moves for the stove. 

Dragging himself along, Eren steps into the kitchen to assist Levi with dinner, and stops. 

“What’s this?” he asks. 

A double set of platters rest on the countertop, loaded with cake and mini pies, tartlets, and other little creations, one looking more beautiful and inviting than the next. 

Enkindling the fire under the cooktop, Levi sighs. “Wedding cakes.”

“Huh? Whose wedding?”

“Ours.”

Eren stares. “But you said…I thought,” he shakes his head, recollecting his thoughts. “You didn’t ask me yet.” He frowns, thinking back. “Did you?”

“The whole town wants to marry us off. The well-wishers you saw this morning were only a foretaste. They’re rather determined as it seems.” The wooden spoon knocks against the pot before Levi puts it next to the stove and turns around with a gesture at the platters. “Norman and Evelyn send their regards.”

The information takes a moment to fall into place, and Eren’s mouth waters. Norman and Evelyn made all these cakes? For them? Their wedding? Feet moving on their own, Eren steps closer to examine the treats. “They are for us? For trying?”

“Perfect timing, considering how shaky you are today.” Levi opens the cupboard to produce a pair of bowls and cups. “Stew first though. You need a proper meal. And tea.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Tearing his gaze away from the heavenly looking delicacies, Eren yawns and reaches for the kettle to fill it with water yet Levi nudges him aside. 

“No. Sit. You can be pig-headed again after you’re feeling better.” The tone is one of pure command, and Eren doesn’t think of disobeying, taking his seat at the table and watching Levi brew them chamomile infusion. 

The sight is almost lulling him in and he clears his throat. Talking helps to remain awake. “How was your day?” he asks when the hearty flavour of the stew that smells just like Eld’s wafts over to him, soon mingling with the herbal infusion’s sweet scent. “Apart from interesting and busy, I mean?”

Levi’s sigh carries all the way to the table. “Nosy.”

Resisting the urge to place his head onto the table and sleep, Eren rubs his eyes and yawns. “Does the entire town really want to marry us off? Who exactly was here?”

“Everyone who could make it. It was yesterday all over, only worse. The florist came over. As did the brewer’s family, the tailor, Simone’s kids, and the head of the local brass band. All fucking goddamn happy to read we’re getting married.”

“We must live in different towns then,” Eren mumbles at his restless fingers, nails fumbling at a knothole on the wooden tabletop scrabbling for purchase. “I got yelled at all day long for the same reason.” 

“It’s quiet now,” Levi says after a moment. 

Levi’s back is turned to Eren, his shoulder blades moving under his crisp white shirt as he fetches a ladle. His neck a strong, pale line stretching from under his starched collar. The fire crackles, and aside from their breathing and the gentle bubbling and stirring from the hearth, it’s the only sound in the room. 

Feeling the modest homeliness of it all wash over him, Eren can do nothing but look, admire, and treasure every bit of it. The question about how he could have ever fooled himself into thinking he didn’t love this man more than anything in the world swirls around in his chest, though for once he can’t muster the energy to be mad at his own blindness. Instead, he allows the scene to carry him along, lets it steal his breath away, and smiles. “It is.”

Fifteen minutes later the stew is gone all the way to the last spoon, and Eren’s stomach happily sated. He shoves away his bowl and sighs, stretching in his chair. Granting Eren a questioning lift of an eyebrow over his tea cup, Levi clears the table before he fetches the cakes, including two forks. 

“How much time did they spend on these anyway?” Eren asks, refilling their cups as Levi sets the platters down on the table. Dinner and the cramp alleviating chamomile have indeed helped with the headache and the dizziness, and though he is still exhausted, Eren at least is warm, fed, and calm again. “There are so many. And so tiny.”

“Probably the whole of Sunday, if not the entire weekend,” Levi replies with a faint frown as he sits back down. “I told Norman I’d choose one for a weekly special downstairs too since we don’t have a date.”

A shadow ghosts across Levi’s face, and Eren reaches for his hand across the table, trying to figure out what direction it comes from. 

“I meant what I said on Friday,” he says after a moment of stretching quiet. “I don’t mind either way. Whatever is fine with you. Fuck what everyone else expects. This is more than enough for me.” He runs his thumb over Levi’s knuckles, tracing the small bony hills that are so delicate, so much in contrast to the scars and calluses on Levi’s muscular palms.

Levi’s hand squeezes his. “Are you still allowed to?”

“Would it matter?” Eren asks, thinking about Claudio’s day-long rant that will continue in the morning and the directives sure to follow. 

“No,” Levi says. “To you?”

Grounded by a set of firm, steadying eyes, Eren shakes his head with a weak smile, hanging on tight to the hand in his. “No.” 

After searching his face for a moment, Levi gives a small smile back and nods, retrieving his hand with a parting squeeze. Then he points at a creamy creation which looks like a crown with its cherries lining the top’s edge. 

“This is chocolate sponge with berries and whipped cream. It has liquor in it, so I don’t know, but Norman says he can make it without.” Levi points at the next one, a small cube covered with chocolate icing and shaved almonds. “Some kind of cocoa cake with bitter almonds. Lots of butter, apparently. This is lemon meringue,” he continues, pointing at a round piece of pie. “Evelyn loves it, so they thought you might too. More chocolate cake over here with whipped cocoa buttercream, white chocolate marzipan here. Strawberry sponge with whipped cream, bee sting cake with caramel falderals, lemon cheesecake, blueberry muffin, pistachio baklava, three-layered nut cake, and molten chocolate cake with cinnamon.”

Letting his eyes roam over every single one of Norman’s creations, Eren listens to Levi’s explanations with an increasingly growling stomach, despite the generous serving of stew he just had. “This looks beautiful,” he says, pointing at the lemon meringue. “Like the sun behind clouds in summer.”

“Mm,” Levi says, cutting the miniature pie in half with his fork, piercing one bite, and lifting it up to his mouth. “Beaten egg whites, I think. Arne mentioned it’s good.”

Spearing the second half, Eren follows suit, and the moment the sweet, buttery-crumbled, lemony flavour bursts in his mouth, he groans, glancing at Levi who already looks back with a gleam in his eyes. Eren lifts an eyebrow, and Levi shakes his head with a smirk, swallows, and snorts. 

“Norman,” is all he says, and Eren laughs.

“You need this for downstairs,” Eren says, still tasting the mixture of flavours and savouring the soft sweetness of it all. “Evelyn and Arne are right. It’s fucking perfect.”

“They probably all are,” Levi says. “Blueberry muffin next?”

“Hm.” Eren bisects the tiny, sugar-powdered muffin, and pops it into his mouth. 

He waits with his reaction for Levi to swallow his share, smiling when Levi shoots him a lifted eyebrow. 

“Not bad either,” Levi says. 

Chuckling, Eren already aims for the white chocolate marzipan cube. “No lemon though.”

“No.” Levi’s toes poke for Eren’s foot under the table, and Eren stretches into an easy tangle of legs as warmth prickles in his fingertips. 

Norman and Evelyn might have saved their day. 

Still, despite all the sugary energy, the cakes can’t cast out all the Titan symptoms’ effects. Neither can all the tea in the world, and Eren soon finds himself ready to fall asleep right where he sits, in the middle of the recollections of his day. He put it off as long as he could, but once they decided on lemon meringue with blueberry muffins for downstairs and strawberry sponge or cocoa cake for the hypothetical wedding celebrations, Levi got that inquiring firmness in his eyes. So Eren started to explain.

Levi listened with a deepening frown and darkening gaze, letting Eren talk without interruption. 

He still remains silent, jaw tight, breath a bit too steady. 

“And then he said we will continue tomorrow,” Eren concludes, waiting for Levi’s response which doesn’t come. 

“It isn’t that bad,” he says, biting back any further words at Levi’s glare. 

Huffing, Levi stands with a hand raking through his hair. “Stay put,” he orders as he collects the empty platters and cutlery to carry it into the kitchen before adding, “and have more tea.”

Eren complies, listening to the china rattling in the sink, followed by the sound of running water and quick, vicious movements of the washing cloth. Levi refills the teakettle and puts it onto the stove with a bit too much force, making Eren shift in his chair and scratch his arm. He doesn’t want to argue with Levi. Not ever; especially not now, and not like this. The headache is creeping back into his skull, and with every minute of sitting the exhaustion seems to spread from his brain through his whole body. 

He is about to ask Levi to talk when a sigh comes from the kitchen, mingling with the sounds of water pouring into the tea pot and a lid being closed. 

“You know what he is trying to do, don’t you?” Levi’s voice has a controlled sharpness to it, yet the underlying anger is not directed at Eren. 

Nevertheless, his shoulders draw up as he swallows against the tightening lump in his chest. “Yes,” he says. His fingers twitch in his lap, confining a foolish wish to tear the godforsaken day into pieces. 

Ever since Claudio opened his mouth this morning it was clear he wants Eren silenced, dealt with, and best of all gone without a trace. He can’t do the latter without getting into serious trouble with Zackley and the government. Yet the article in today’s news gives him enough leverage to take some measures as a first step to execution whilst concealing it under the pretence of precaution. If not for Hanji, Eren can only imagine where he’d be this evening. Probably in a cell somewhere, or worse. 

He shudders, deciding to stop thinking about what could have been. It wouldn’t help anyone. 

“You signed the agreement,” he says instead. 

The tea pot emits a gentle, jasmine-scented plume of steam as Levi sets it on the table. “So did you.”

Eren rubs his eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” he pushes out. The words feel like speaking through honey and don't make any sense to himself. “Not what I meant.”

“Eren. Stop. I know.”

He falls silent, pressing his lips together. Levi is right. This discussion won’t get them anywhere. He is too tired, his head too empty to think anyway. A sigh escapes him, making him sag in his seat. 

The heat from the hearth settles on his weary bones like lead without casting the cold out of his body one bit. His eyelids grate with every blink. Remaining upright in his chair takes every last bit of his strength. He wonders how he should move towards the bedroom this way. The chair is comfortable enough at least. Maybe this table is a good pillow for him too. 

“No,” he groans his protest when Levi steps closer to lay a hand on Eren’s arm as if to help him up. “It’s bookkeeping night. I don’t want to go to sleep alone.” 

It’s silly. He knows it is. Yet he’s felt raw and on the edge all day long. Eren refuses to close his eyes without Levi laying next to him, without his reassuring strength and grounding presence. 

“You’re passing out as you speak.” 

Eren swallows, blinking through the drowsy fog. “I won’t interrupt your business routine.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and eventually, Levi sighs. “Fine. Let’s get you changed.”

“But–”

“I’ll do it in bed.” 

It takes a few seconds for Eren to get the full meaning. He blinks once more, then another time, and slumps forward to pull Levi into a grateful embrace, too relieved to fight any further or even wanting to try. 

Levi’s fingers dive into his hair and it feels good, so good. “If I spill any ink, you’ll pay for the next linens.” 

Eren wheezes a snort, nuzzling deeper into Levi’s chest with a sigh. It would be heaven to sit like this forever. He drags the moment out until Levi pats his shoulder in a voiceless demand to get up. 

It takes him immense effort to draw back so he can rise on reluctant legs. He rubs his eyes, empties his cup, and orders himself to move. 

“You don’t have to watch me,” he complains as Levi nudges him towards the bedroom. “I can walk on my own, you know.”

“Mm,” Levi says, following Eren’s scuffling feet over the wooden floor, regardless. 

As they step over the threshold, the question comes to Eren’s mind how he must look if Levi even considers doing his bookkeeping in bed. “You won’t spill any ink,” he says, fumbling with the buckles of his gear. “But I will. Pay for the sheets, I mean. Wanted to anyway. I still don’t know how they can be so comfy though.” 

With the day’s pressure fading and blissful rest in his foreseeable future, thoughts keep spilling out of Eren’s mouth. Unfiltered. Unsorted. Unchecked. “They're like clouds to sleep in. And they smell like you. Did you know tha-” He huffs, yanking at an intractable strap of his harness. 

“Fucking buckles. Impractical. No, I’ll do it myself!” He tries to turn away but Levi has already loosened the clasp and Eren relents with a frustrated grunt, letting Levi help. “Troubling you,” he mumbles, looking down at Levi’s capable hands in an attempt not to sway. “Stupid.”

“You’re not. Only tired and stubborn as fuck. Arms up,” Levi prompts.

Eren scarce manages to toe out of his trousers before he flops into bed, face first before he rolls over. Pulling the blanket over himself to his chin, he isn’t able to keep his eyes open long enough to see Levi leave and return with his bookkeeping supplies. He blinks through heavy eyelids and sighs into his pillow at the sight of Levi changing into his nightshirt before folding his clothes to place them next to a second, neat little pile. 

“When did you fold mine?” Eren hears himself mumble while his eyes close again on their own. 

Levi slips under the blanket, the mattress dipping under his weight that already feels so familiar to Eren, so right. He puts his ledger on his lap, his back leaning against the bed’s pillow-cushioned headpiece. “Go to sleep.”

“Mm. Okay.” 

Levi’s presence feels like a shield. Peaceful, calm, and strong against Eren’s fingertips as he stretches out his hand for a connection. Cool knuckles brush over his in brief assurance before bills rustle and pages in Levi’s ledger are being turned. 

Eren sighs. His fingers grasp a piece of Levi’s wide shirt. A pen scratches over paper, and Levi’s quiet breaths fill the room, mingling with Eren’s own. As he drifts away, able to let go, his last thought is at least they still have this.

Claudio can do his worst. 

 

*

 

One can be thankful for the little things, Eren muses as he wakes the next day, his head still hurting, his body still tired, yet the nauseating stomach cramps are almost gone. He rolls over to his right, stretches his limbs in a yawn, and frowns, stilling. The space next to him is vacant. 

A probing touch confirms what the neat looking pillow on Levi’s side and the unmistakable heat of a lit fireplace are already implying; the bed sheets are cold and probably have been for a while. Flopping onto his back, Eren assesses the time. It must be around dawn. He rubs his eyes and leaves the bed to search for Levi. 

He finds him in the kitchen, a steaming tea pot on the working surface before him and dressed in his usual work clothes. 

“‘morning,” Eren says under another yawn. “You’re up early.”

“I was just about to wake you,” Levi says, placing a dripping sieve onto a small plate before he pours tea into two cups. His movements are spirited and self-assured, lacking the slumberous drowsiness mornings bring. The grey of his eyes is already clear too, sharp and observant, despite the dark smudges beneath them. “Feeling better?”

“I do.” Eren steps closer to embrace Levi from behind, humming his affirmation with a smile as he buries his nose in Levi’s slightly damp hair. He must have showered a while ago, though his strands still carry the strong smell of soap. They also smell like— “Knife maintenance?”

As Levi hums, Eren squints his eyes at the surroundings. Not a single object lies where it shouldn’t be. The kitchen is sparkling, even more so than it was the day before. Evelyn and Norman’s empty cake platters are gone. The distinctive scent of wood polish and freshness hangs in the air, underlain by the lingering traces of weapon oil and grain alcohol. 

“Did you get any sleep at all?” Eren asks. 

Loosening himself from Eren’s embrace, Levi stretches up for a brief kiss against Eren’s chin. “A bit. I’ll prepare breakfast while you’re getting ready.”

By the time Eren returns from the bathroom, the small kitchen table is loaded and the smell of cleanser has made way for the delicious scents of toasted bread, fried eggs, and ham. Levi sits on his chair, the daily morning paper screening everything but his hands and a small tuft of hair. 

“Any news?” Eren asks, failing to keep the concern out of his voice. There’s no need to clarify which kind of news he’s requesting.

“No.” The paper rustles as Levi folds it back together. “Not today.” He places it next to his plate.

“Good.” The sigh escaping Eren is one of pure relief as he reaches for a slice of thick, roasted rye bread with renewed enthusiasm. 

“At least the old one makes good toilet paper.” 

Pulling the churn closer, Eren chuckles, despite himself. “Yeah, I noticed. I never thought I’d be so happy about the chance of wiping my arse with our own names.”

“Can’t make the news any shittier,” Levi says. “Might as well make the best out of it.” His eyes crinkle behind a tea cup as they smile at each other. 

Yes, Eren thinks while his belly pools with warmth. They still have little things to be thankful for. 

With a pair of faint crow’s feet still softening his expression, Levi sets his cup back down, and Eren returns to his bread. 

“You know,” he frowns as he scrapes butter over the crusty surface, “Rita gave me the thought yesterday. Something about the article feels off.” He didn’t have enough energy to give it any further thought the night before. When Levi read the piece of ludicracy out to him, he considered it nothing but bad press and gossip, yet the hours with Claudio prove it goes beyond that. It feels like an attack.

“Mm.” Levi nods and reaches for a bread slice for himself. “It was too personal,” he says, dipping a spoon into the jar with blackberry jam. “Something’s foul. The timing is odd too.” 

Manoeuvring one of the fried eggs onto his crisp buttery breakfast before taking a bite, Eren can’t help but agree. “Claudio was surprised by it though,” he chews. “I didn’t even know he was here on Sunday.” 

Levi grunts. “The whole thing stinks. You saw the kids yesterday?”

Eren smiles at the thought of them. “Yeah, they tackled me on my way out. Harold’s got a new bruise.” He shrugs at Levi’s lifted eyebrow. “Smacked his face with a tree branch. A bit more to the left and he could have lost an eye. He says it’s nothing though. Asked me if I was all right.”

Levi’s lips twitch under a softening gaze. “Reminds me of someone.”

“Oh, shut up.” Eren grins, yet winces as a first ray of the rising sun across the rooftops blazes through the window. It blinds him for a second, sending a sharp pain through his skull. 

Levi frowns. “Still got the headaches?” 

“A little,” he admits. “Much better than last night, though. And oh, by the way, our chair is almost finished.”

“So I heard.” It’s Eren’s time to lift an eyebrow and Levi shrugs. “Gossip mill’s working overtime.”

Eren nods. “That’s right, I remember. Busy day yesterday. Did you really say the local brass band was here? Or did I dream that?”

“They were here. The cakes were real too. As was the pighead who refused to go to bed.” Levi’s eyes gleam with mirth, betraying the attempt to hide his smile behind a slice of bread. 

Eren pokes out his tongue yet his neck heats up under the mild rebuke. He behaved like a child again. He even made Levi take his bookkeeping to bed. Yet as silly as Eren feels for it now, he remembers the desperate need for closeness. It felt as though parting from Levi, even for a moment, even for a few steps, would have broken him in two. 

If Levi didn’t want him the way he does, or Eren hadn’t had his epiphany a few weeks ago, Eren is certain he’d still have ended up the same last night. Wanting to see no one but Levi, refusing to go home. Of course, without those circumstances, they wouldn’t be in this whole Claudio and Titan marriage rumour dilemma. 

Magda’s words from the night before come to his mind. Eren knows it’s Levi’s decision whether to worry and fuss or to leave him on his own. What doesn’t change is the fact it feels like his fault. His own mess; and yet they all help him. Make sure he’s properly fed, rested, and protected. That he has everything he needs.

Eren clears his throat. “Thanks again for that.” 

“Hm.” 

“How long were you at it? The paperwork, I mean.”

Levi rubs remaining breadcrumbs off his fingers. “Not too long.” 

“Any accident with the ink?” Eren teases, already knowing there were none. When he made the bed earlier, the sheets were spotless, as expected. 

“Who knows,” Levi retorts and Eren rolls his eyes with a chuckle, chewing on another bite of egg-covered bread.

“You’ll have to be in Hanji’s office by seven thirty?”

“Yeah.” Eren exhales against his breakfast at the thought, spraying buttered bread crumbs onto the tabletop. “Round two of repeating the same things as yesterday.”

“I’ll pack you something to eat and drink.”

Despite the prospect of having to reencounter Claudio in under two hours, Eren can’t help but smile. “What a shame we don’t have any of those cakes left, huh?” 

Levi snorts. “Still torn between cocoa and strawberry?”

Surprised by the question about wedding cakes, Eren blinks down at a second slice of bread in his hands. His heart jumps in his chest, forming into a heavy fluttering lump. Levi said it didn’t matter to him if Eren was still allowed to marry or not. However, that was before Eren told him about Claudio’s demands. 

Eren swallows, but when he meets Levi’s eyes again, all remaining worries about Levi changing his mind are cast away. “Both?” he suggests.

Levi returns his sheepish grin with a knowing glint in his eyes. “All right.”

“Remember the lemon pie and blueberry muffins for downstairs.”

He hums. “Evelyn wouldn’t let me forget at any rate.”

Eren chuckles. “She does have good taste.” Then he remembers something else from the night before. “Why did you buy candles and oil at Magda’s?”

It takes a lot to catch Levi on the wrong foot, but now he stares at Eren with a surprised yet amused expression while the corners of his mouth curl in a retained smirk. 

“Are you sure you want to know?” His eyebrows lift in a suggestive arch, and there’s a mischievous purr to his deepened voice that makes Eren’s guts churn. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” he asks back over his cup, taking a cautious sip of invigorating tea. 

“About a year ago, I scolded her for letting Val bring some candles and oil to spice up our sex life.” 

Eren chokes on his tea. “What?” he coughs. “Wait, a year ago?”

Smile widening, Levi hums and sets into explaining the ongoing romantic meddling of their staunchest supporters.

When they leave the flat half an hour later, Magda’s coat slung over his arm, Eren’s ears feel like they’re burning. 

“I can’t believe people tried to meddle with us like that for so long,” he says, stepping into the café while Levi locks the door behind them. 

Magda made Val bring Levi oil and candles once? ‘For the mood?’ Eren must have been daft for not knowing or noticing any of this happening. It at least explains Val’s violent blush and Magda’s flustered behaviour when she wrapped the candles. Going by the gleam in Levi’s eyes when he explained, Eren also can’t help but suspect there were multiple incidents of this kind. His stomach performs an unpleasant twist at the idea. 

Levi ruffles his hair as he passes him on his way to the staff department. “It’s okay. Tea?”

Sighing, Eren shrugs. “Yeah. Thanks.” He drapes Magda’s coat over one of the bar stools and regards the café. 

No matter how thoroughly Levi scrubbed the flat upstairs last night, he hasn’t set a single foot in here to tidy up last evening’s mess except for bringing down Norman and Evelyn’s platters. Not wanting to leave him alone for too long, Eren muses. If their roles had been reversed, he’d have sat at Levi’s side all night long, watching over him, not daring to even move away two steps. 

Still, Levi’s worry about him remains a nagging stone in his guts, and Eren hurries to make up for it, starting with preparing the Sparrow for the day.

Between the two of them, there isn’t too much to do. Levi always wipes the tables in-between customers and usually every evening too. Hence the worst chaos consists of five disarranged chairs, a couple of cups, saucers and plates, a few stray pastry crumbs, and some sugar crystals that have to be mopped away with the dried puddles of molten snow. Someone also forgot a knitted scarf, despite the frost outside. It lays curled up on the floor next to a chair, probably slid down and forgotten in the haste of the previous night. 

When a search for a name tag or anything similar fails to reveal the owner, Eren shakes out the soft greyish blue wool and gives it a few deliberate pats to free it from dirt. As he folds it for safekeeping, though, Levi gives a recognizing grunt. 

“Diane. She must have forgotten it.”

“Oh,” Eren says, frowning as he tries to put a face to the name. “I think I don’t know who that is.”

“Works at the playschool. Store it in the back. If she doesn’t pick it up by noon, we’ll send someone. It’s cold out and I don’t think she’s got a second one.” The last bit of the sentence drowns in loud hoof beats approaching on the cobbled street. 

The sound intensifies until a large carriage darkens the café, blocking out the daylight, and coming to a standstill in front of the entrance. 

“That’s odd,” Eren says, the hand holding the folded scarf sinking at his side at the view. The horses are nothing but gracious, the waggon is huge and impressive with its ornaments. “Who might that be?”

Levi has fallen silent, and Eren is startled to see recognition spread on his face as a well-dressed servant steps up to the carriage door. Eren’s jaw drops. 

“Is that…” he begins, but stops as he carriage opens since he already knows. 

A shiny glove emerges to place delicate fingers into the servant’s palm. The arm is followed by a glowing blonde head, a thick, ostentatious fur coat, and a set of big blue eyes flitting to the letters written on the window.

Unable to move, Eren stares. “Fuck me.”

“Well,” Levi says dryly, unlocking the door and reaching for his apron. “Let’s hope she won’t mind we’re not wearing the medals she gave us.”

Eren manages to stifle an embarrassing snicker just in time before the door opens, and Queen Historia strides into the café with a chime of the bell. 

“Good morning, gentlemen. Congratulations are in order, I presume?”


	7. Silver, Gold, and Red

“Historia.” There’s no help for Eren. He laughs and, throwing all propriety to the wind, storms forward to enfold Historia in a welcoming hug that lifts her up her feet. “Fuck, it’s good to see you!”

She laughs against him, patting his shoulder until he sets her down and steps back from her. He clears his throat. She’s the Queen, for fuck’s sake. He just hugged the crap out of the Queen.

“Sorry, your Highness,” he mumbles, scratching his neck at the snort coming from the counter, and hurrying to store away Diane’s scarf that’s still clutched in his grip. 

“Good morning,” Eren says when his hands are empty again.

Levi gives a small nod. “Historia.” 

“Levi,” she says. Her lips twitch in an ill-composed smile. “I see he came around.”

“Seems so.” Levi smiles and darts a warm glance at Eren who simpers down at his feet. 

Idiot, he chides himself for the second time this morning. He’s been such an idiot.

To his relief, Historia lets him off the hook, her voice assuming a factual tone. “I heard you’re having some trouble over here. I thought you could use my assistance.” 

She turns to wave at the servant still waiting outside. He salutes, gestures something to the coachman, and jumps onto the back of the carriage as it rattles away. When it passes the window, morning light streams back into the café, painting Historia in bright silver, gold, and red.

“They will drive around for a while.” She pulls at her gloves’ fingers to slip them off, one after another, and hands Eren her coat, revealing a dress that’s not any less stately than the fur. “Until then, I’d like a cup of tea. Whatever you are drinking is fine. When do you have to be at HQ, Eren?”

“Um, in about forty minutes,” he answers.

“Let’s talk for a bit then, shall we? At the counter?” She floats towards one of the bar stools not occupied by Magda’s cloak, and takes a seat, her spine a straight line. 

Eren nods, hanging Magda’s cloak and Historia’s coat onto the rack nearby. 

“Now.” Her sharp gaze fixes on Eren. “What are his demands?”

“Colonel Claudio’s?” Eren asks, taking the seat next to her. 

He casts a stealthy glance at Levi who returns it with a frown and a subtle jerk of an elbow.  _ Answer her for now. _

So Eren shrugs to himself, drinks his Assam, and gives her a brief summary. “Mostly stuff to ensure no one will be harmed,” he says. “Yesterday he mostly ranted. But overall he mentioned no shifting, no recreation, no special treatment, no too close contact with the Trainees, and living here only under certain rules to protect the civilians. He wants more frequent reports from me and Hanji. From Armin too. Weekly health exams and monthly tests to check on my mental stability. Execution when I disobey or become a too high risk.”

Levi’s breath is becoming deep and forced again, so Eren presses his lips together before he adds, “He wants to start the document outlining today.”

“He arrived on Sunday, as I’m informed?” Historia asks. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

As he pours Historia her tea, a ghost of a reaction flits across Levi’s eyes, too quick to settle and making Eren frown. Something is going on, and Eren is not the only one who doesn’t know about it. Levi seems lost too as it seems. This Eren definitely doesn’t like one bit. 

He shifts on his seat. “After the first article in the newspaper, yes.”

Historia nods. “Are there any documents you already signed?”

Though her question was directed at Eren, Levi answers in his stead. “He sent me a declaration of obedience in a situation of Titan threat yesterday,” he recalls, and Eren swallows at his cool tone. “Hanji and Eren signed it too.”

A grim line forms around Historia’s mouth, but instead of asking any further questions, she peers at Levi. “I heard you have good cake over here.”

“On its way,” Levi says, nodding at the street where Frey’s figure approaches, his arms loaded with trays. 

He enters the café, his cheerful “Good morning!” breaking off right along with his smile falling from his face as Historia turns in her seat to greet him. 

“You must be the baker’s son,” Historia says, arm outstretched in an offer for a handshake. “Frey, was it? Good to meet you.”

Frey first pales, then crimsons all the way up to his fire red hair roots. “Queen Historia…” he stammers, gasping for air. “I. I…you…. How?” 

“Breathe, Frey.” Levi pries the trays with baked goods out of his grip with decisive determination. 

“I heard a lot about you,” Historia continues. “It’s so nice Levi has such capable friends and helpers.”

Frey falls silent, yet beams as he joins in the handshake. His cap bobs on his nodding head, and his chest swells with pride as he gapes at Levi who is transferring the fresh pastries to the empty cake display. 

Eren grins. “Hello Frey.” 

“Hello Eren,” Frey says and then snaps out of it, his enraptured beam falling off his face. “So good to see you. I heard yesterday was nasty with those strangers in town. Mum was so mad at the ridiculous rumours. You should have seen her.”

“I’m all right,” Eren says, finding it hard to imagine Evelyn being mad at anyone. “Tell your parents thanks for the cakes, will you?”

Frey’s eyes widen in excitement. “I will! Oh, I will. Were they any good? Did you like them? The strawberry cake was my idea, you know? It’s much better in summer when the berries are fresh. The conserved ones make it soggy.”

“It was wonderful, though,” Eren says. “We liked it a lot.”

“You did?” 

Levi hums and hands Frey a sealed envelope alongside the cleaned trays and platters from the day before. “Give this to Norman, will you?”

Eren startles at the mail. He hasn’t seen Levi writing anything this morning. The question how Levi knew he would pick cocoa  _ and _ strawberry cake is already on its way out, but a hinted shake of Levi’s head makes Eren remember the lemon pie weekend special, and he shuts his mouth. 

“Oh, I will, Captain. Thank you so much!” Frey’s gaze snaps between the two of them before it lands on Historia again, turning hazy. 

Historia smiles. Levi clears his throat. 

Frey blinks. “I…I have to go. Other deliveries, you see.” 

“Have a wonderful day, Frey,” Historia says. 

Feet stepping backwards as he dips into an awkward bow, Frey collides with the door with a startled “hmph!” and a clatter of trays. He picks them up in a hurry, and scampers out of the café to the sound of snickering. 

Levi takes a deep breath that has Eren assume he suppresses a bracing sigh. 

“Another busy day,” he says. 

“So it seems.” Levi adds a small heap of clotted cream to a piece of cherry pie and sets it before Historia. His face displays nothing but neutral composure, yet Eren saw the smile. Bicker as he may about having to tend to nosy customers, most of the time Levi enjoys what he’s doing for a living these days.

Eren grins into his tea. 

“So,” Historia says, folding her hands in her lap. “The wedding gossip is true then?”

Setting his cup back down with a grimace at the choice of topic, Eren shakes his head. “No!” 

His protest is a bit too vehement, perhaps, since Levi looks at him with a growing smirk and one quirking eyebrow while time seems to have stopped to listen in on whatever Eren has to say next. 

Blood shoots into his cheeks, making him wish he wouldn’t have tied his hair up before so he could hide his blush behind the strands. “People are just being pushy about it,” he answers the question from anew, scowling at his hands as he fumbles with the tea-warmed china. “We haven’t really planned anything yet. I only moved in last week.” 

“Mm,” Historia says, picking up her fork to dig into the sugary pastry crust. “But it is in the works?” 

Her voice is so sticky with sweet innocence, and so Christa-like false, it sets off Eren’s inner alarm. Whatever she is intending with her question, it is about more than cordial curiosity, and if the sudden tension in the room wasn’t proof of that enough, Levi’s shifting expression is.

His previous mirth is gone, as is the neutral seriousness. Instead, he’s lifted an impervious facade that isn’t diminished by the apron he’s wearing these days one bit. On the contrary, it even seems to enhance it. His grey eyes have gone wary, and whereas Levi doesn’t say a single word, the implicit  _ back the fuck off! _ flashing out in specks of sharp silver is loud and clear. 

Historia doesn’t concede. Any resemblance to Christa is gone, and when she speaks, it is with cool insistence. “A relationship like yours is not entirely a private affair, Levi. You may not wear your medals, but you understand what people expect, don’t you? You two are as important to Paradis as I am. We are the main symbols of stability, safety, and positive change to our nation. My people have shared positive input about you two getting together, even concerning the silliness of your Titan wedding, Captain.”

While Eren observes the following silent stand-off with curious awe, he muses it speaks in Historia’s favour she doesn’t so much as flinch whilst holding Levi’s gaze. He hasn’t witnessed Levi’s glare like this for a long, long time, and he finds himself equal parts protected, reassured, and, much to his own surprise, oddly aroused. Maybe he should provoke this look some time and see what happens.

Then Historia’s words sink in, and inner rebellion gains the upper hand. Heat lashing out into his arms, Eren balls his fists and scowls. What is she even saying here? That it isn’t their decision whether to marry or not? Who does she think she is? 

He inhales, ready to give her a piece of his mind.

As if he could sense Eren’s rising indignation wanting to burst out, Levi intervenes. “It’s too soon to start talking about marriage,” he says in a tone that concludes any further discussion. 

Historia and Levi stare at each other for a bit longer, blue eyes holding grey shields. Eventually, Historia throws Levi a look which says this conversation is not over before she points her fork at her plate and diverts. “Truly damn good cherry pie, by the way.”

Levi nods while his pose loses some of its prior rigidity. “I’ll pass it on.” His hand makes a soothing gesture, and although Eren still wants to protest, he sits back, grinding his jaw to keep any outburst in check. 

Aside from his wish to keep any hypothetical wedding a quiet matter, the implied underlying threat in Historia’s behaviour is what gets to him most. It’s bad enough to have Levi confronted with the over-zealous excitement of this entire town, where people know them, talk to them, and share a part of their lives with them. Yet turning their relationship into a royal decree, no matter how subtle it may be, is not only an embarrassment. It’s ludicrous and absurd. 

Eren sighs and pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as Levi refills his Assam. They’ll have to talk about this tonight. The mere thought makes the headache throb against his temples. 

“How’s Armin?” Historia asks after a minute has passed.

Glad about the temporary peace offering, Eren seizes the change of topic. “Good. He’s good. Off to survey a new area since ten days ago, so we haven’t heard anything yet. But you know. He missed the road.”

“Always the explorer,” she says, smiling. 

“How have you been?” he fills the following silence.

“Good.” A shadow darkens her expression while her fingers twiddle with her cup, her shiny, perfectly trimmed nails tracing the handle. “All right.” The line on her brow deepens even further. “Have you heard anything about…about Jaw?”

“No.” Shaking his head, Eren keeps the answer simple. “Nothing new in the memories.” He swallows with clenching fists as the images from last night flicker up before his eyes, tightening his chest. A church. Screams. So many tears. Bones breaking under gargantuan teeth. 

Historia nods and picks up her fork without another word.

Levi’s responsive frown fades into an exasperated blink as the door bangs open with a shrill chime of the bell. Eren doesn’t have to look up to know who it is. 

“Historia!” Hanji cries. “What a beautiful day! I saw your carriage on my way here, how good to see you!”

“Hello Commander,” Historia wheezes as she’s crushed by the second pair of arms this morning. It almost knocks her off her seat.

Going by her widening eyes, Eren suspects not only hasn’t she seen this reaction coming, but that also Levi was right about Hanji needing a shower soon. He grimaces.

Hanji pulls away, claps, and plops down on the seat to Historia’s left with a whimper that sounds a lot like “marry me.” 

Eren catches Levi’s snort as he pours Hanji her coffee, and Eren drowns his chuckle in his hot tea, not minding it scorching his tongue. 

“Must be the caffeine deprivation. Here, four-eyes.”

She doesn’t wait for Levi to set her big mug onto the counter, snatching it from his hands and tossing the scalding brew back into her throat in one single, long gulp. 

Levi doesn’t bat an eye, though worry and disapproval darken his expression as he gives her a refill. “Got any sleep at all?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.” Hanji nods and nearly spills coffee as she jerks in her seat. “Oh, shit. How are you, Eren?” she asks, rearranging her glasses on her nose. “Did you manage to get home yesterday?” 

Being faced with a concerned frown by not only Hanji but by the Queen of Paradis too, Eren sighs, ignoring Levi’s muttered “As you can see.”

“I’m better today, thanks,” he mumbles. “And yes. Magda gave me a toddy and then Levi accompanied me back home.”

“But what happened?” Hanji asks, nodding her thanks at Levi when he hands her a plate with a goat curd spread bagel. “We were so worried. You left HQ before I did after all. When you didn’t show up we thought Claudio’s men kidnapped you or something. They tried to stir trouble everywhere in town yesterday. Here too. Isn’t that right, Levi?”

“Mm.” Levi takes a sip of tea, clear eyes scanning the street outside. 

“Oh…” Kidnapped. Despite his record, Eren hasn’t even thought about that possibility. Now that he recalls Levi’s quick and troubled appearance at Magda’s yesterday, however, it does make sense. “No,” he replies. “Nothing like that. I just was…” he stops, searching for the right words. 

“Obstinate.”

He drags a deep into his lungs at Levi’s comment. Then he sags and rubs on a spot on the brass counter with his thumb. “Yeah,” he relents. “The migraine cramps hit a bit too sudden and bad.”

“Got a notebook with that lovely bagel for me, Levi?” Hanji asks. 

He nods and fetches her one, alongside a pencil. 

“Migraine you said?” Hanji asks, turning her attention to Eren. “On the scale?”

He sighs. “Nine.” 

Levi’s index finger taps the counter while Hanji scribbles away. Eren signs an affirmative,  _ yes, still the ten scale, _ not meeting Levi’s eyes but seeing the hand twitch. 

“When did it start?” Hanji asks. 

He clears his throat. “The worst stomach and muscle cramps hit after I left HQ. The headache itself, I had all day.”

“That’s not good.” She frowns at him, and Levi clicks his tongue. 

“I told you about the migraine puking, four-eyes. And he was under your nose all day long, for fuck’s sake.”

Hanji’s expression distorts into a contrite grimace. “So he was. Headache shifting in intensity ever since the puking?” 

Eren nods, sensing Levi’s eyes on him. Historia drinks her tea and continues eating her pie in what looks like a failing attempt to blend with the room. 

“Eight then,” he replies. “It was a mild two in the morning. More like a one. Got worse again around noon.”

Hanji continues scribbling in the notebook. “Anything else? Nosebleeds? Scarring? Further throwing up?”

“Apart from some memories and ongoing nausea, no.”

“He said he was beside himself for a moment yesterday,” Levi adds. 

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Magda found me staggering because of it and dragged me into her place since I was passing by when it hit.” Eren scratches his cheek. “For a few seconds, I got disoriented enough to mumble about Titan symptoms to her. It was the exhaustion, I think. Dinner helped.”

“Got any rest last night?” Hanji asks. 

Levi hums before Eren can answer. “I had to push him to it, but yes. Nearly ten hours. Slept like a log.” He and Hanji share a look before she turns to Eren. 

“And the symptoms are gone?” 

“I’ve still got the headaches.” He considers it for a moment. “Somewhere between a two and a three, I think. No nausea though.”

Brown irises observe him through smudged glasses. “Should we go to Cookie to fetch you some painkillers for today?”

“No.” Eren shakes his head. When he is met by three pairs of eyes, he casts his gaze down into his tea. “They make me feel funny,” he explains with a weak shrug, pinching the skin above his left thumb until it hurts. “I’d rather face Claudio with a clear and hurting head than with a numbed and fuzzy one. They also still don’t help with the memories.” 

The few times he’s taken the meds during the end of the month days, they made it harder for him to tell apart his own thoughts from the sources’ within him. The fear of them taking over, of them making him do something he’d never do by his own choice, never went away over the years, serum or not. It doesn’t make a difference Hanji and her assistant cooked up a new analgesic to help with the numbness a little bit. It’s still bad enough, and the fear of losing control remains the same. 

Tapping fingers make him look up at Levi, but he’s already scowling at Hanji. “Another day like yesterday, and he’ll pass out by afternoon.” 

“I won’t let it come to that,” Hanji promises. 

Eren bows his head at her words, fingers twiddling in his lap before he fastens them around his cup to keep them occupied and still. His feet draw in to cross under his high seat. His mouth clenches shut. 

“I agree,” Historia says. “We won’t let it come to that. I outrank Colonel Claudio after all.” 

“See, Levi?” Hanji cheers, straightening up in her seat. “Today I’m better prepared. I’ve even got backup. I only need more coffee to get a full head of steam for countering that idiot.” 

Levi nods, opening the can with coffee powder to brew a second pot. “I’ll prepare another thermos flask.”

Hanji beams, clapping her hands again before clutching them to her chest. “You are my hero!”

“You still have to pay for it.”

“Damn! Ah, well.” She grins. “It was worth a try, wasn’t it?” 

"You already pay only half price, Nutcase,” Levi grouses in a good-natured tone.

“I know! It’s why I love you.”

Levi snorts.

“How has the situation at HQ been?” Historia asks. 

“All right,” Hanji says, scratching the back of her head with the pencil still in her hand. “Claudio’s been the usual idiot, but nothing we couldn’t handle.” She ignores Levi’s stare and digs into her bagel, chattering on with her mouth full. “It’s so good to have you here, though. How have you been? It’s been ages! Do you still like cheese? Because if yes, you have to try this goat curd we’re having here. It’s amazing.”

While Historia throws herself into a detailed description of some Brie she had a week ago, Eren rubs his brow. Levi taps his fingers on the counter and reaches for a can of Assam, knuckles turning white as his scowl darkens. Indicating a shake of his head, Eren shrugs at another tap of Levi’s fingers against the tin. No, he doesn’t know what the hell is going on either. 

The scent of weapon oil floods back into Eren’s lungs, carrying the understanding of where all the knives Levi sharpened went while Eren was fast asleep. One in each of Levi’s boots, one in his pocket, one in his other pocket, two in each of his forearm sheathes, four in the staff department, one well-hidden in the bathroom, and plenty under the brass counter, not to mention those he stores in tea and coffee cans. 

Grey eyes meet his. They look like steel and thunder. Like danger. Oh, this is not good; not good at all. Eren frowns. Levi’s mouth twitches into a thin line. Eren nods. 

Whatever information Hanji doesn’t want to share with them, Levi must know about everything that will happen today. 

 

*

 

The royal coach arrives back at the Sparrow around quarter an hour after it left. Returning from a small route through town in a political gesture, Eren muses. It doesn’t take long to attract the first crowd of civilians, so the square in front of the café is packed with people even before its regular opening time. 

Levi sighs, mutters something about “fucking vultures,” and lets them in, flipping the door sign to ‘open’ a few minutes early the second day in a row. 

“We should go,” Hanji raises her voice over the lively chatter of customers streaming into the shop. 

“Levi,” Historia says, her fur coat draped over her shoulders again, and her fingers clad in her silken gloves. “It was a pleasure.”

Levi nods, casts a lingering glance at Eren, and tends to orders for coffee, tea, and cakes. Going by the boisterous excitement, Eren has a feeling Norman’s pastries won’t last long today. Some of the patrons probably are even Frey’s doing. It wouldn’t be a surprise to hear he told every single person he could find that Queen Historia was at the Sparrow, sipping her tea and eating their cake like any normal person. 

“My carriage will take us,” Historia announces as they step into the cold December morning, and Eren sinks into the luxurious velvet seats with an unruly sigh. 

The street is busy with people, most of them on their daily route for work or running errands, yet some on an obvious mission to eyeball. A couple of familiar faces are beaming at him through the carriage’s windows, waving with delighted enthusiasm. He forces a responsive smile, not caring it most likely looks more like a threatening scowl, waves, and shuts the blinds with a muttered “fuck off.” He closes the silken drapes too, just in case. 

Grateful as he may be about Historia’s help, he’s always loathed a fuss. 

Of course, the whole ride is ridiculous, taking perhaps five minutes from door to door at most. A distance which Eren would have loved to walk. After spending every single working hour inside of Hanji’s office yesterday, plus regarding her and Historia’s ongoing discussion about cheese, walking and some reminiscing under the blue, sunny sky would have been wonderful. Since it seems like peaceful strolls will have to wait, he crosses his arms and lets himself be shaken by the cobbled street beneath them. The four-in-hand’s quick clip-clap and turning wheels a constant clatter assaulting his ears and head. 

“Which class were you supposed to teach again today?” Hanji asks. 

“The second years,” he answers, observing Hanji when she nods in response. 

Historia’s blue eyes avert their view from the gap in the window drapes to land on him. She hasn’t reopened the blinds, and the glowing stones embedded into the carriage’s costly interior highlight her a bit too much like they did in her family’s cave. “How’s teaching been for you, Eren?” 

“Good.” He shrugs, thinking she looks like she’s dressed for this carriage before he realises it’s probably the other way around. “I like it.”

“So I’ve heard.” Her smile doesn’t falter when they rattle over a bigger gap in the cobblestones, bumping their shoulders against the interior and co-occupants. “I’m glad. It must be odd to teach.”

“The kids are great,” he says as the waggon stops with a little jar, having arrived at HQ. He is quick to exit the carriage, Hanji hot on his heels.

Whereas Historia’s demeanour was more or less relaxed at the Sparrow, she now steps out into the courtyard with rigid grace and a stern gaze. Soldier’s gawk, some first-years stop on their way to breakfast, whispering to each other before running off to fetch their friends. Claudio’s men turn pale at her mere sight. Two royal servants flank Historia on the way to Hanji’s office, and by the time they close the door behind them, Eren suspects the entire building knows about who is in their midst today. 

In the end, the rest of the morning is almost anticlimactic. 

Colonel Claudio enters the Commander’s office with bumptious strides, deflating in an instant when his little eyes spot Historia standing next to Hanji. “My Queen,” he splutters, head jerking to the two royal guards who took post at each side of the door.

Eren can’t help but think he looks like a wild animal that finds itself trapped. A rabbit perhaps.

Historia makes quick work of the situation. “Good morning, Colonel Claudio.”

He takes a curt bow and salutes. “Good morning, your Highness.”

“It came to my notice the gossips over here are out of control, Colonel, and I decided to investigate myself. As I’m informed, you took measures to ensure the country’s safety?”

After loosening his salute, Claudio remains upright and rigid. Only his eyes flit back and forth in the room, as though searching for exits. “I did. Yes, your Highness.”

“A bit overeager perhaps,” she adds, inserting a little pause before she continues. “Though we’re grateful for your support in this matter, there’s no need just yet to seize extreme solutions for this situation, Colonel, don’t you think?”

Blinking through the room, Claudio’s hands twitch at his sides, opening and closing around thin air before they ball into fists. His voice, however, remains composed. “With all due respect, your Highness, I was assigned to take the required precautions until the situation is back under control. Which I did.”

“Is that so?” Historia asks. She is still wearing her coat and her hands are folded in front of her. “Isn’t it your job to find out whether the rumours are trustworthy or not? Ensure which sources to trust and which to ignore. Our work requires we be unbiased, Colonel. I thought I needn’t have to remind you of this.” 

Silence follows, and as the seconds tick by, the first pearls of sweat begin to glisten on Claudio’s brow while his face turns red. Eren bites back the urge to chew on his lip or to look down at his feet in sympathy. He despises this man from the bottom of his heart, though he doesn’t want to be in his shoes at this moment. Impossible arse as he may be, he only did his job as a Colonel after all. 

“I only did what I thought would be best for our people,” Claudio says. 

Historia interrupts him with a sharp gaze. “You’ve disappointed me today, Colonel. There was no need to take as extreme measures as you set in motion. Nor did you investigate the sources of both articles which were printed. My staff learnt of your failure to do any fact checking during my own investigation last night.”

There’s no doubt now. Claudio’s face glows as red as a flare. 

“For our people,” Historia corrects his words after another pause, “it’s best to ensure the heroes of this civilization aren’t cut down. Humanity’s Strongest is already disbanded from military service at your instruction. What will happen if we remove Humanity’s Hope too? We need more soldiers to defend this country. Do you think anyone will enlist if we proceed your way? The Cadets are already asking questions about why we want to get rid of Instructor Yaeger when he’s been doing nothing but solid work. We need to control this situation and assure the people there’s nothing to worry about. Last thing we need these days is a mass panic.”

Eren wouldn’t have thought it possible, yet Claudio turns an even darker shade of red. “I agree,” he presses out. “But with all due respect, that was exactly what I was preventing. Mass panic is what will happen when we let the Titans do as they please. They should have made an example of to ensure our people’s safety years ago.”

“Which people?” Historia asks. “The population majority that feel safe with Eren remaining at HQ as an Instructor as well as a protector of this country? I spoke with some old friends over a cup of tea and cherry pie this morning, and was ashamed to find out your behaviour, along with your soldiers, caused serious distress amongst the townsmen yesterday. I intend to enquire further into that issue as well.” 

Claudio doesn’t reply. His hands are in front of his stomach now, twisting and rubbing off sweat. 

Historia speaks on, voice ice cold. “Have you forgotten the seriousness of the actual danger, Colonel? You know harming Eren, in particular, can set free not only one but eight of the complete nine Titan sources to scatter about as they please. They won’t care where they’ll go, but most likely it will be out of our reach. Eight sources. We could be at war again within a month if they fall into the wrong hands. You’re aware of the measures we enacted to ensure this will not happen. So what were your basic concerns in this matter, Colonel?” Historia asks. “And make haste with your answer, I won’t wait all day.”

“Of course, your Highness,” he hurries to reply. “As my sources told me, people are worried about the Titan issue. We can’t have these monsters running around, scaring our citizens.”

Historia raises an aristocratic eyebrow. “What monsters? Do you refer to Armin Arlert and Eren Yeager? The  _ Shifters _ who were willing to sacrifice everything to help our side win the war? Terminology is crucial here, especially regarding the problem I just laid out, don’t you agree?”

Claudio’s moustache quivers under fluttering nostrils. “Shifters or Titans. It doesn’t matter on which side they stand. They are an asset. I said so during the war and I stand by my opinion today.”

“I disagree, Colonel. They are heroes. Eren Yaeger has been spoken free by court, declared a full soldier and trustworthy ally. On multiple occasions. Just as Armin Arlert has likewise been exonerated from the reputation of being a monster. Furthermore, neither of them is able to shift while medicated, as I’m informed. The parasitic characteristics of the Titan source are dormant due to the Commander’s serum. There are multiple detailed reports on this issue.” 

“Yes, there are, Queen Historia,” Hanji says. She’s been silent so far, staring at Claudio over her folded hands, elbows resting on her desk, glasses gleaming in the light of an oil lamp nearby. “Plenty, in fact. All of Eren and Armin’s scientific experiment records are currently in Colonel Claudio’s chambers, along with an assembly of their respective medical files.”

Historia hasn’t averted her gaze from Claudio. “So they are trustworthy by ruling, and in no danger of running around, as you call it,” she concludes. “Let me also add this, if I may. I myself used to fight beside Eren Yaeger and Armin Arlert, Colonel. Apart from the fact that they were my friends for years before I was crowned, all three of us did our duty to win this war, and still do to keep peace. Remind me: What have you done?”

The response is equal parts indignant and humble, nearly bitten out between clenched teeth. “I did my duty too, your Highness.” 

The tension remains in the room for a few quiet seconds before it snaps. 

“See?” Historia smiles. It’s one of those radiant smiles that seem to make her glow and shine, and Eren catches himself wondering how the hell she’s doing this. When she speaks, her voice is gentle and sweet, yet firm, and doesn’t allow any disobedience. “And that is all I want you to keep doing, Colonel. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Claudio is seething. Though he hasn’t moved from his spot at the door ever since he entered the room, he looks as though he would explode if he only moved so much as a finger. He seems to vibrate where he stands, face and neck remain crimson red, hands balled into fists, tiny eyes close to popping out of his skull. His temper looks ready to break out as he allowed the previous day. He doesn’t do any of those things, however. Instead, he cowers his head and answers under what sounds like immense effort. “Yes, my Queen. Of course.”

Her smile brightens even more. “Wonderful! Now. My proposal is that you, the Commander, and I will retreat for the rest of the week and the next. We should outline proper directives for this case, including thorough ground rules applying to the military in general and to the Shifters in particular. It’s long overdue. The Penman Squad can draw it up after we’ve agreed on everything. Instructor Eren?”

Glad he’s got at least something to contribute, Eren straightens where he stands. “Yes, your Highness.” He salutes.

“You can attend to your classes meanwhile,” Historia says. “You’re of much more use there, and your students must be worried for you after your absence yesterday.” She looks at him, and after a small motion of her hand, one of her guards hands Eren a sealed scroll. “I hereby speak you and Levi free of your last statute which you signed yesterday. You will receive a new set of decrees as soon as we have drafted a fitting statute that ensures everyone’s safety.”

Despite the hope Claudio’s prospective directives would magically disappear, actually hearing it out loud and having the physical proof in his fingers, causes a wave of relief to crash over Eren. Acquitted. To the full. His pulse shoots through the roof. This can’t be happening, can it? He doesn’t dare to move, concentrating on the weight of the paper in his grip as he tries to not to show any emotional reaction. 

Historia looks him firmly in the eye. “I apologise on behalf of the entire kingdom for any trouble this may have caused you and for any possible insults imposed on your character,” she says. “We are grateful for your achievements during the war, and thank you for your ongoing loyalty. We are lucky to have it and are proud of your allegiance.”

He swallows, holding Historia’s gaze with a straight back and tensed muscles as he summons his voice. “Thank you, your Highness.”

She nods. “As far as the living arrangements go: Would you accept some ground rules to be allowed to live outside HQ, provided your accommodation is within a short distance and you won’t live alone? Most married soldiers are granted a similar arrangement.”

He doesn’t need help on this matter. His answer is all too clear. Still, his eyes find Hanji’s and catch a downcast, deliberate blink. Raising his chin at Claudio's outraged gasp, Eren nods. “Yes, your Highness.”

“To clarify: Whoever lives with you will have to sign a matching set of ground rules so we can assure your safety as well as ours. This includes being responsible for your physical well-being after and before your regular work hours to a certain degree, and being our contact for emergencies.”

“Of course.” Eren lowers his gaze to meet Historia’s once more, almost startled by how far down he has to look. When has she become this petite? It doesn’t match her impact at all. 

“I understand,” he adds.

“Good.” She smiles up at him, her features softening around her sharp eyes. 

The expression is far less charming than her radiant, glowing smile, yet far warmer in return.  Despite the fur coat, pricey perfume, and blinking jewels, it makes her look more like the soldier and comrade Eren once knew, and less like the Queen she’s become.

“You may go, Instructor. Check in with us after your final classes today as well as the rest of the week. We’ll inform you of our daily conclusions and will bring you up to speed.” 

He salutes. “Thank you, your Highness.” He nods at her once more before meeting Hanji’s smile. “Commander. Colonel.” Eren salutes again and leaves, eager to get as much distance between him and Claudio as possible. 

He ends up in his office this way, leaning against the closed door, and allowing himself a sigh, fingers pressing against his hurting eyes. 

No matter how grateful he is for not having to endure another day like the previous, and no matter how much he’s looking forward to a day of teaching, he’d give a lot to know what will happen in that office this morning. He’s got a feeling as if clouds are gathering on a clear summer sky. He's also got a feeling Historia wanted him to leave the room for a bigger purpose than tending to new directives. 

The royal decree is a curious weight in his hands, and he finds himself staring at the signet with an increasing frown. The edges of the scroll are already bent, the thick paper rolling itself pliantly into the cylindrical form instead of rebelling against Historia’s seal. 

When did she have this prepared? Did she expect this situation to happen? Why is Historia even here? 

It’s not her job to come to Eren’s rescue. It’s not her job to upbraid Claudio for barking his orders at a lower-ranked soldier which is his right. It’s not her job to bail Eren out of trouble either. If it is anyone’s job at all, it would be Zackley’s, and he sent the Colonel himself to begin with instead of making sure Claudio wouldn’t do as he pleases. 

However extreme Claudio’s measures are, Eren understands why he finds it necessary to take precautions at the current rumours going around. Hell, he doesn’t even like the gossip either, different reasons aside. Claudio is scared of what might happen. Lots of people are. It’s the military’s job to ensure the civilian’s safety as best as it can, to protect people even from someone in its own ranks. Even if the methods are a bit radical. It doesn’t change the fact that the Queen of Paradis took two entire weeks out of her busy schedule to appear like some sort of guardian at Eren’s doorstep, quite literally. It is a bit odd. Especially after only one day of Claudio’s shenanigans. 

Full of questions, Eren sits down at the old familiar desk, placing the certificate onto the tabletop, next to the satchel with Levi’s care package. Leaning back in his chair, he lets his eyes roam over the nearly cleared office that was his home a week ago, as if he was searching for clues. 

Eyes drawn to the massive piece of furniture before him, he swallows, a wistful smile twitching in his cheek. Hanji allotted him this desk on his first day as an Instructor, no matter how much he protested and insisted he couldn’t take it. He’d come back from the Introduction round, and it was here in his office. In the exact right spot. 

He leans forward to brush a palm across the polished surface as he did back then, and stops in his movement when the jackknife in his pocket digs into his thigh. At a sudden thought, he takes it out and opens it. 

The blade is shiny with freshly applied weapon oil, softening Eren’s smile with a tightening lump in his throat and a fond churn of his belly. His heart flutters in his chest. Levi. 

He must have checked on it whilst sharpening his own knives this morning, greasing it without whetting it beforehand. Eren can tell by the kind of sharpness it has and by the whetstone’s markings which, compared to Levi’s orderly ones, are far more erratic, if no less effective. Levi must have oiled the handle too, going by the silky smoothness of the wood and the scent of beeswax.

Looking at the glistening metal as he tilts the blade in his hand, Eren presses his lips together. Levi wants him to be ready for whatever awaits them. If Eren only had a clue about what the hell is going on. 

A door bangs shut in the hallway outside, making Eren jump up from his seat before he remembers where he is and that he’s got somewhere to be. 

Releasing his held breath, he folds his knife back together, stuffs a protein bar into his pockets, locks Historia’s charter into a desk drawer, and leaves for his first class of the day, his 3DMG in his grip. As much as he’s looking forward to seeing the kids again, after yesterday, he can’t wait to fly through the forest. It always helps him think.


	8. Whispers

In his first life, Levi was a thug. Though perhaps that’s not entirely correct. In his first life, Levi was a prostitute’s son who would end up a thug. 

It would be false to say his first lesson after Kenny found him, next to his mother’s corpse, on the brink of death himself, was to never trust anyone to help you. Levi already knew that long before his mother died. What Kenny did teach him, however, was how to survive on the streets, and how to do it well. 

By the time the Survey Corps dragged him up from that filthy pithole that was the Underground, Levi—by every definition of any noble—was gutter scum. He also was the best at what he did. 

If someone searched for a piece of information, Levi would obtain it for a price. 

If someone commissioned the robbery of a certain object, Levi would do it. 

If someone tried to rip Levi off, they’d regret it for the rest of their days—which would either end right there, or be an effective warning to others. 

If someone wanted a foe out of the way and was willing to fork over good money, someone else would end up dead. Leaving no evidence of who’d done it. No witnesses. No clues. No culprit. A few days later, Levi would have a nice meal to celebrate a deal gone well, paid with blood money, proficient stealth, and unbeatable skill. 

During his final days as an unworthy street rat with no official citizenship allowing him to ever feel the sun on his face, he’d share those meals with Isabel and Farlan. They’d have a rare feast with mould-free, rich bread, barely wrinkled apples, and some heavenly berry juice in summer, or mead in winter. They’d eat whilst planning their next coup. Then Levi would buy a can of tea for a horrendous sum of cash, and the circle would start anew. 

He was used to being alert. Used to listen to the whispers on the streets. He was a master at spreading some well-considered rumours of his own here and there, to make use of what he had. To piss the right enemies off and leave the wrong ones to themselves. He was used to being prepared to carve red smiles into people’s skin whenever he had to for survival. With every body cast aside along his way, his mind drifted to the only foolish dream he ever allowed himself to have. Not that it would ever come true.

He’d dream of a tea shop. A small one. In a small town. Above the ground. 

During the afternoons the sun would pour through the paned front, warming Levi’s face. He’d have a clean floor, grime-free windows, and freshly washed clothes every day. A hearth. A pantry that never was too empty and never too full to attract vermin or would go to waste. He’d be a free man, live a simple life, and instead of slicing people for a living, he would slice cake. 

It would be plain. Good. Dirt-free. Quiet.

An excited voice draws Levi from his musings. Did he really think customers would be quiet back then?

“And then, our lovely Queen Historia stepped out of the carriage,” Dennis concludes to the closest table occupants with gleaming eyes. He looks as though he’s seen a miracle. “Queen Historia! Can you believe that? I mean, of course, I recognised the royal coach, but still!”

Bracing himself for the umpteenth recalling of Historia’s appearance, Levi serves Dennis a piece of nut cake and refills his coffee whilst ruminating about how he’d come from his life Underground to this. Gossiping customers are anything but peaceful.

The Queen’s visit has stirred up the entire town. People continue streaming into the café in a ceaseless flood, eager to discuss the event over caffeine, sugar, and tea. All with hopes of getting Levi to divulge why he was visited by their monarch. Amongst them are Dennis and Desiree. 

“I thought I got hit on the head again and was seeing things,” Dennis recalls, engrossed in the memory. 

“You’re always seeing things,” Desiree teases and ducks Dennis’ half-hearted blow against her shoulder with a laugh. “Mum must have dropped you a few times too many when we were young.”

“Oh yeah?” he retorts, crossing his arms in mock-offence. “You’re only jealous because, opposed to you, I got carried around all the time.” 

“Only because you were too stupid to learn how to walk.” She winks at Levi when he fills up her cup as well. “Thanks, Captain.”

“Not stupid,” Dennis corrects her. “Wise to drag it out. I saw a lot of the world up there.”

Desiree leans back in her chair with a grin. “Oh!” She nods. “So that’s why you’ve had your head in the clouds ever since I can remember. You never rolled around in the sand with the rest of us.”

Levi bites back a quiet smile. It isn’t too hard since Dennis looks up at him now, features filling up with the tell-tale signs of an imminent interview. If he isn’t about to ask Levi something about Historia, Levi will drink the next carafe of contemptible coffee all by himself. 

Of course, the appeal of having an eyewitness in Levi only adds to the drive for gossip and debates about Historia’s visit right under his nose. By now Levi’s fended off questions ranging from “Captain Levi, is it true her favourite is green?” all the way to “Is it true Queen Historia loves lakes?”  At least the latest news on Historia tempers the ongoing curiosity about yesterday’s gossip concerning Eren and their made-up upcoming wedding. 

Restraining himself from looking out to the streets and into the direction of HQ for the umpteenth time this morning, Levi quirks an eyebrow at Dennis. He muses what question will be asked this time. Something sensible would be nice for a change. 

“Is it true you didn’t know about Queen Historia being of blue blood when she joined your squad?” 

While Dennis fixes Levi with an expectant smile, his sister rolls her eyes with a dramatic groan. Their friend Rupert looks as though he will shit his pants any moment as his gaze briefly meets Levi’s. 

Rupert has been in the Sparrow on a couple of occasions since it opened, always in the twin’s company. Yet he hasn’t spoken a single word to Levi all this time. Aside from “coffee please,” and some mumbled thank you’s in any event.

“She didn’t know herself back then,” Levi answers, keeping the information as compact as possible. 

“She didn’t?” Dennis gapes. “Wicked. Must have been a crazy time back then if our own Queen had no idea she was the next in line. Must have been because of the false King’s antics.”

Pushing away images of caves, cells with torture equipment, Kenny’s last breaths, and Eren’s forlorn gazes, alongside the renewed sensation of falling for a bright-eyed kid, Levi harrumphs and deflects. “You could say that. Anything else I can get you?”

“No, we’re good, Captain.” 

Desiree and Dennis shake their heads while Rupert flushes and stammers a “no, Sir.” 

Torn between private amusement and exasperation, Levi holds back a sigh. To this day he doesn’t know whether Rupert suffers from disproportionate shyness because of his stutter, hyperbolic hero worship, or a possible crush. There’s also a mild chance he’s one of those few who remain terrified of Levi because of the common knowledge he grew up in the Underground. Not that there’s any reason for Rupert’s fright. Levi has never intimidated him, so he can’t see what causes him to be this timid. Especially with Dennis and Desiree being their relaxed selves in his company. 

At any rate, it’s not his job to assure a man in his early twenties that he won’t bite his head off. So Levi tends to his other customers and their abounding curiosity. 

“Is it true Queen Historia had the idea to recruit soldiers from the Underground herself?” is one of the most popular questions. Followed by, “Is it true you've been at her orphanage before?” And of course, the most popular question of them all: “Will Queen Historia be at your and Eren’s wedding?”

It goes without saying this last one doesn’t cease to be a prelude to a thorough and repetitive interrogation about the when, where, and how the fictional wedding will take place. It also entails a ceaseless stream of questions about wedding rings, cuff bracelets, flowers, seasons best for festivities, and—another front-runner—marriage proposals.

“Which of you popped the question?” Romilda asks, rocking eight-month-old Clive on her hip. “Is it true it was Eren? Was it very romantic?”

Levi is about to give the well-practised response that Eren and he aren’t engaged when Clive decides to spew his last meal on his mother’s felt jacket with a full-throated belch. 

Romilda whoops and forgets everything about engagements. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Captain,” she says as she produces a muslin cloth from her bag to wipe most of it off. “He made quite a mess this time. It seems to happen more often again since his teeth started cutting. Would you mind holding him for a moment? I am so, so sorry!” 

Finding himself with a romper-clad child in his arms as he supplies Romilda with napkins, Levi silently thanks Clive for his input. The kid gawks at him with big blue eyes and smacking noises, his little spit-sticky chubby fist patting Levi’s cheek before clutching the straps of his apron. 

It might be imagination, but Clive looks like he’s smirking. Levi gives him a piece of bagel to chew on as a reward for his efforts. 

Clive thanks him with another sticky pat against Levi’s mouth and nose, and an enthused “boo!” He grips on tight to the piece of bread, stuffs it into his mouth, and sucks on it. 

“Mm. It’s a bagel,” Levi says, glad about the brief escape from proposal talk. Maybe Romilda will forget all about it once her coat is milk-free.

She doesn’t.

“Now where were we?” she asks, propping Clive onto her hip after Levi handed him back over the counter. “Oh, yes, the engagement! It’s always the best part, don’t you think? Everything after that is work. And then you get children, and well…” she sighs, smiling at bagel-sucking Clive before kissing his blond head. “Not that I mind, of course. But it feels like I haven’t left the house in ages. Will you and Eren adopt?”

Taking in her tired appearance before delivering the death blow, Levi wonders if she believes her speech makes marriage an attractive prospect to anyone. “We’re not engaged.” 

He counts down from three and sighs to himself when her hopeful expression shatters to pieces.

“But why not? I mean, he did move in here, didn’t he?”

Truly, Levi thinks as he explains yet again, it wasn’t necessary for Historia to point out what people expect of them. His customers are determined to remind him well enough on their own. All day long. And the day is far from over. Neither is the proffered support slowing in the least. 

“Would you and Eren like to have doves fly at your wedding, Captain Levi? I could bring my birds.”

“Forget Heston’s brass band! What do you say to a string quartet, eh? Can’t say no to that, can you? We could come by some day to serenade you something nice. Just say the word.”

Levi holds Charlie’s enthused gaze and counters the offer in the same way he already countered Heston’s. He says no whilst handing over a cup of coffee.

By early afternoon, Levi is tempted to throw one of his freshly sharpened daggers into the next wall. He needs to scare someone after all. Maybe it would make people leave him alone for a few minutes. Then again, it might backfire and bring more eager helpers out of the woodwork.

He owns a tea shop, he reminds himself, a café. Not a den of thieves. Not by most people’s standards anyway. So he occupies his twitching hands. There’s plenty to do including wiping down tables and running dirty dishes to the back. Then there’s washing dishes every chance he gets. He’s brewing endless amounts of coffee—twenty-nine cans of beans ground, brewed, and counting—and trying his best to keep his answers diplomatic. It’s become a challenge. 

“I don’t have any homosexual friends,” Gladys confides as her knobbly, shaking fingers fumble for her purse. Though she states it with the unapologetic soberness characteristic of someone who’s witnessed enough for an entire lifetime, it’s clear she missed out on some aspects of life. Her kind eyes blink at Levi through thick spectacles, taking a moment to focus on him. “But I’ve been curious: Is one of you going to be the wife? Or how do the expected roles for two men getting married work?” 

It’s the probability of giving her a heart-attack that prevents Levi from asking whether she liked to be on top of Nathan when he was alive, or whether she preferred the other way around when they fucked. Still, it would be cruel to cause what a decade-long war didn’t accomplish. Plus having warm-hearted old Gladys’ death on his conscience would be inconvenient. 

Hence Levi bites back the retort, helps her with producing the right coins, and invokes the counterpart to one of Hanji’s Titan lessons. He asks Gladys about her gout.

It doesn’t ease his irritation over his guts roaring with unease which they’ve done for over thirty hours now. The lack of sleep caused by inner tension doesn’t serve his jangling nerves either. When the caffeine began to boil in his blood after his sixth cup of strong green tea, Levi switched to a mellow herbal infusion. Although it isn't doing anything for his tiredness, it’s soothing his upset stomach. 

All the same, it’s a relief to know Eren is out of Claudio’s grasp. For now. Soon after Levi opened, some Survey Corps members entered the café, reporting they’d seen Eren leaving HQ with Connie and the second years in tow. Nonetheless, there’s still uncertainty about Claudio’s influence regarding Eren’s long-term freedom, not to mention health. 

Rarely has Levi seen Eren so depleted as he was yesterday, not even during the war. After getting so exhausted, Eren often slept so deep, as if he was in a coma. Last night was no different. With his lungs aching from borderline hyperventilating, and his own heartbeat hammering in his ears, Levi wasn't able to close his eyes for longer than a fitful doze. So he remained awake. In case of being needed. In case of being able to make things better. In case Eren never woke up again. To keep himself from going insane, Levi had cleaned the flat, waxed the floor, and maintained every single knife he could find. 

It had taken Eren starting to stir in his sleep for Levi to get his breath and pulse back under control. Still, with the day advancing, the chest pains and shallow breathing seem to push their way back into focus, bringing with them a growing apprehension.

Regarding Eren’s state, Historia’s appearance couldn't have come at a better time. It is too convenient though. Too early, too smooth, and far too neat. Things usually don't sort themselves out this effortlessness; shit never vanishes overnight. Even knowing Eren felt better this morning and Hanji looked rested as well remains a small comfort.

Never has his apron felt as confining to him as it does today. With Claudio’s men running around and poisoning the town, waiting for Eren to make a wrong move, Levi’s trapped in his own café. In his own home. Hands twitching in their wish to pull a pair of knives from his arm sheathes, Levi observes the merry crowd in the Sparrow, feeling out of place. 

Valentin’s starry-eyed presence doesn't much help. 

“Is it true Queen Historia likes cats, Captain Levi?” he asks, not waiting for Levi’s reply before he talks on. “I bet she does. Everybody loves cats. They're so useful too. I always wanted one, but they make Mum sneeze. Anya said she likes cats though.” He came in five minutes ago, to fetch his mother’s lent cloak, to bring over another altruistic if welcomed food package, courtesy of Magda, and to ask about Eren’s health. 

Levi hums an answer in a decisive tune that could be anything between yes, no, and who the fuck knows. 

“Rita told me her friend Mia knows her. Queen Historia, I mean. She’s so lucky.”

Wiping some coffee dust off the counter’s brass surface, Levi regards Valentin’s engrossed beam with a disapproving frown. It's clear how Valentin means it, yet Levi wouldn't call losing your parents and your home at the age of eleven lucky. 

According to Eren, after reading Mia’s files, she spent close to two months being homeless after turning twelve since the orphanage could only host children until they came of age. So Mia punched through a life on the streets until she decided to enlist. It's not what Valentin thinks of when he calls Mia lucky, of course. 

Though the kid is far from what Levi would call stupid, his worldly innocence astonishes at times. This town experienced war at first hand, yet it failed to teach Valentin some essential realism. Like knowing the Queen in person doesn’t mean your life will correct itself with a snap of your fingers. 

As for being lucky. If someone would ask Levi, Mia is lucky to have the Instructors she has, the Commander she has, and the friends she found in Rita and Harold. She'll be even luckier if she sees both her friends grow up and age. They’ll have to see about that. Nothing is certain in this world. 

Ordering his breath to remain steady at what wants to follow that last thought, Levi pours Valentin his tea. Saying any of those things on his mind might give Valentin nightmares or the wrong kind of ideas. Even worse, it might make him cry.

“Did any more Military Police pester you or your parents today?” Levi asks. It would be interesting to know what Claudio’s men are up to while they’re in town. They haven't set another foot in here since yesterday, but better not praise the day.

“Huh?” Valentin looks up and blinks across the counter. “Oh, no. Not today. Mum says she doesn't miss them. Threatened to throw them out should they visit again. Promised to kick them in the arse…I mean in the bum.” He blushes at his own words. “She was so mad, Captain Levi. Especially after what happened to E–,” he catches Levi’s warning gaze not a second too late and lowers his voice into a mumbled whisper. “We're glad he’s better.” 

“Mm.” Levi grants him a nod, yet Diane has already perked up in her seat.

She entered a few minutes before Valentin, and has been quiet, aside from saying her thanks for keeping her scarf and ordering a drink. “Did something happen?” she asks. A concerned line appears between her eyebrows, and her voice is hushed. 

“We’re all right,” Levi says, aware of the pricked up ears around them. “Refill?”

“Oh, yes, thank you.” Though she smiles, the movements of her arms give away her hands fiddling with the scarf in her lap. The line on her brow remains too while Valentin looks as though someone kicked a puppy. 

His shoulders are hunched, his face is distorted, and the contrite expression he regards his cup with has Levi suppress a sigh. Great. Now the kid is frightened of him. He didn’t even glare that hard. 

Letting him mull for now, Levi directs his attention to Diane. “Any wishes on the tea?” 

Her arms stop in their movements while her hands softly pat the knitted wool. “Oh, no. Whatever you can recommend.”

Nodding, he takes Diane’s cup to rinse it in the back. When she entered, she asked for a “cup of black tea” without further clarifications. She didn’t look too tired, if a bit distracted, so Levi served her an Earl Grey. With the worry on her face right now, something with jasmine seems more fitting. It won’t be another black tea, but it will uplift her. Plus the additional infusion will ease his own jangling nerves as well. 

Back behind the counter, Levi spoons the right amount of dragon pearls into a sieve, remaining quiet while the rolled-up leaves unfurl in the added water to spread their characteristic floral flavour. Now that he thinks about it, Diane looked troubled yesterday too. 

She was one of the few who didn’t ask him questions about either of the news articles. Frowning at the steeping tea, Levi recalls the evening before, prior to Hanji’s arrival. It’s not his business, but in-between all the animated gossip, Diane sat at the small table in the middle of his café, surrounded by people, looking alone. Reserved as she usually is, she likes to smile and participate in talk. Yesterday, she kept to herself and fended little conversations off with stiff smiles.

Levi gives her another assessing look. Her shoulders are hunched, her nose is still red, which can’t be from the cold outside anymore. Her eyes are a bit too glossy. It's something personal and profound troubling her. He heard talk about her mother being in the hospital for surgery, but that was months ago. 

Meanwhile, Valentin next to her scrapes up the last pieces of his chocolate cake, gulps down his tea, and slides off the bar stool, hanging Magda’s coat over his arm. “I should go, Captain Levi,” he mumbles. “Mum’s waiting for me anyway.”

Levi drags in a bracing breath and counts to three in his head before opening his mouth. Curt remarks won’t be of much use here, and Valentin didn't do anything wrong. “Thank you again for yesterday, Val,” he says, chewing on the nickname and the compliment alike, no matter how true it is. “And for the food. You are a big help.”

The words work wonders. Valentin seems to grow where he stands, and a delighted beam lights up his features. His usual spirit is back too. “Always, Captain Levi. We’re so glad we could help. If you need anything else for Friday or even before, you know where to find us. You could send someone over too. And please tell Eren…” he stops himself, and Levi can see him redirect. “Tell him we say hi.” 

Levi nods with a faint flicker of amusement tugging at his mouth and watches Valentin bounce out into the street. Diane’s blue eyes follow his parting figure as well before they land in her lap where her fingers have continued to fiddle with her scarf. 

“He’s a good man,” she mumbles.

“Mm.” As he fills Diane’s cup with dragon tea, Levi ponders over something possible to say to her. 

She accepts the brew with a small twitch of her lips and a flash of gratitude in her eyes before it makes its way out. “Thank you, Levi.”

“Any time.” He removes Valentin’s dishes from the countertop and wipes some stray crumbs off the area before placing the sieve with unfolded dragon pearls back into the pot. While he pours fresh water over the leaves, Diane blows on her tea and takes a hesitant sip. 

It’s as if she’s coming alive. Her eyes blink behind a curtain of brown hair, the previous glossiness in them making way for her usual sharp wit fighting its way back into the here and now. The paleness in her cheeks blooms into a healthy colour, and the quiet smile as she emerges from the cup comes from deep enough to soften the frown on her brow. Even her freckles appear more lively again. 

“I like this one,” she says, more to herself than to Levi before her eyes find his and crinkle around the edges. “Thank you.”

Humming once more, he pours himself a cup too. “You all right, Diane?”

Her shoulders lift in a shrug while her hands seek the heat of her tea cup. “I will be. I must.”

He nods, not prodding any further. Deciding to give her a moment to collect herself, Levi takes the coffee carafe through the café, filling up cups and checking on empty plates. 

“You know what you should do, Captain Levi?” Paula asks from the table at the window where Eren sat every evening for over a year before he changed to his new favourite seat at the counter. “Marry in June! The summer nights are so beautiful. Aren’t they, Viola?” 

“They really are, Captain,” she says. “It’s such a wonderful month for celebrations.”

Yes, Levi thinks as he pours the couple their coffee with a tight smile. Plenty of bugs everywhere trying to fly into your face, and the heat being horrid is a wonderful prospect to enjoy while stifling in heavy garments. Indeed. 

“More cake?” he grits out. 

“Oh, you’re so kind to ask,” Viola says. “No, thank you.”

He collects their plates and moves on.

The amount of dishes and cutlery he brings back to the counter is worth a soaking in the wonderful retreat that is his staff department. If the flood of customers won’t abide any time soon, he’ll need freshly cleaned dishes anyway. His hands are eager for something to do.

Preparing the washing water, he screws the tap shut when all the dishes are thoroughly covered. With that done, he goes back to the customer area. Diane is still sitting there, with the frown back on her features, her nose a brighter shade of red, her eyes distant. 

Taking a sip of his tea, Levi considers it for a moment, then reaches for a cinnamon roll, sets it on a plate, and places it before her with a new and dry napkin to blow her nose. “On the house. Keep an eye on things for a few minutes.”

She sniffs as she looks up at him in surprise, and Levi grants her a frowning smile before he retrieves his tapping fingers from the counter to step into the back to attack the dishes. 

By the time he re-emerges from the staff department, a tray loaded with clean china in his hands, Diane seems more like her usual self. The pastry is half-finished, her cup is missing more tea, and the napkin still rests beneath her plate, unused, though it shows a few traces of sugar and spices. 

“I bet Norman bakes with magic,” she says with a faint grin as Levi sets the tray down and starts drying a dripping wet saucer with a tea towel. “Makes me wonder if he’s got fairies in his oven or something.”

The comment elicits an amused snort from Levi, accompanied by some mirthful squeaking of his tea towel as it rubs over slippery porcelain. Whatever is bothering Diane, she hasn’t lost her spirit. 

He is placing another dry saucer onto the growing pile to his left when Evelyn’s red-coated figure enters the café, carrying a basket.

Speak of the devil, Levi thinks. “Hello Evelyn,” he says.

“Hello Levi.” She greets him, wiping her feet on the doormat before closing the door behind her with a bright bell tinkle. Then she spots Diane and her head tilts to a side. “Hello Diane,” she says,  solicitousness softening her voice as she steps closer. “We were so sorry to hear about Margret. It’s so awful.”

Diane’s smile lingers, though it is cast over by the same unmistakable shadow from before. “Thank you, Evelyn.”

Levi frowns. So it is about her mother after all. Using a new dry spot of the tea towel he starts working on another wet cup, regarding Diane closely. 

If Margret had died, he’d have heard. News like that spreads like wildfire in town. Death drowns out all other news, from greater and flashier ones right down to the minor everyday items. Diane would also have a different look on her face. Though something about the lines around her mouth are coming close to such sorrow. A bit too close, perhaps. Margret must be ill again, Levi surmises. Very ill and the news about it is sudden. Perhaps not surprising, going by the grim angle of Diane’s jaw. Whatever happened, it’s too recent to have made its round through the entire gossip mill yet. 

Setting the dried cup aside, Levi swallows, fighting against a threatening flood of memories tugging at his insides and creeping up his nostrils, speeding up his breath. The fragrant tea before him helps to root him in the present, so he picks it up, dragging its fragile scent deep into his lungs until all he can smell is jasmine.

“You poor thing,” Evelyn says. “Especially after the surgery last summer. It must have been such a shock for you both. Is there any news from the doctor yet?”

Diane performs a slow shrug, picking on her cinnamon roll. “He said she’ll need stronger medication but should be all right with it.”

“I’m glad to hear that. If you two need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask, Diane. Norman and I will do whatever we can. Frey too.”

She nods, though her polite, withdrawn expression gives Levi the feeling she won’t ask. “I’ll pass it on. Thank you, Evelyn. That’s very kind of you.”

“I mean it, Diane,” Evelyn says as Levi sets his cup back down, swallowing a sip of Dragon tea. “Often the relatives suffer far more than the patient. They worry the most. I know you’ll take care of your loved ones, and deal with life going on on top of that. We know all about it. It’s only normal. Now, don’t you go making yourself sick too.”

Diane gives a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach her eyes which flit around the café. It is as if she’s looking for an exit or a hint for how to distract Evelyn. 

Sensing Diane doesn’t want to talk about her situation, Levi reaches for his voice alongside his hospitality to tend to his new customer. “What can I do for you today, Evelyn?” he asks, retrieving his palm from the consoling steam emerging from his cup.

The solicitousness on her face instantly fades into the business-like kindness she is eager to celebrate. Her cheeks swell with delight, and her eyes blink in an unrelenting way that has Levi cursing inside. He might have saved Diane from Evelyn’s unwavering altruism, but it’s clear he’s the next on her list.

“I heard about Eren,” she says, looking at Levi as if this alone would get him to spill his guts. 

Remaining silent, Levi lifts an eyebrow, wondering what she might have heard. He’s bracing himself for her telling him all about it in his stead. His stomach swoops, making him want to glance towards HQ again in an irrational impulse, although he knows it won’t give him any reassurance about Eren’s present well-being. 

“I spoke to Magda this morning,” Evelyn begins, her blatant concern not alleviating the churning in Levi’s innards one bit. “I understand you and Eren had a lot on your plate yesterday.”

“So you came over to pry?” he asks, the edgy words slipping out before he can hold them back. 

Evelyn wags her hand in front of her face. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Levi. Nanna Pearl and her daughter saw Magda pulling Eren into her place yesterday. Both think he was looking a wee bit pale when they picked up their bread and muffins this morning. Barb said Eren must be getting that seasonal flu going around. Nanna Pearl had it for eight days. Made them both miserable. And that at their age. Imagine what could have happened!” 

“Mm,” Levi says, sticking to an elusive reply as he takes in Evelyn’s straight posture with narrowed eyes. Relief as it may be that the current cold season makes for easy cover-ups like this one, perhaps it’s bit too convenient. It feels more like a whispered rumour already than an actual happening, and Evelyn’s gaze, as she continues, is a bit too piercing. 

“So I came to ask whether you need any help since Magda wouldn’t say anything about Eren’s visit,” she says, folding her hands as her head tips to a side. “I tried, you see, but all she said was to be careful what to say on the streets these days. Not that anyone has to tell me that. Not with the nasty questions those outsiders are asking. Can you believe they visited Magda in high hopes to gather accusations towards Eren’s training methods? Rita’s parents too. Teddy was furious. Threw them right out of his shop as Sandra told it. And normally that man’s got nerves of steel.”

While he waits for her to finish her monologue, Levi thinks about Claudio and his men trying to get people to turn against Eren. It is one of those things he can believe. It would even verge on a miracle if they wouldn’t. Though the nastiness implied sets his inner alarm on fire far more than them asking the standard questions in such a case, it’s nonetheless gratifying to a certain extent. Them trying to poke anyone they can find means they can’t have much, if anything, on Eren. He also can’t help but feel warmth towards Magda for not giving away anything about Eren’s blackout. Not even to Evelyn as it seems, chummy as they are or not. 

“And there are other incidents like this too I’ve been hearing about this morning,” Evelyn continues. 

Her amiable features distort with indignation. She’s still standing, the basket clutched in a tightened grip before her. Her chest is swollen, her chin lifted. Levi wishes she’d sit down. 

“They even tried to stir trouble at the barber’s place. Thought many soldiers go there. Which is true, of course, but Mattis and his people are careful with which gossip they spread. Can’t afford it, you see. If they’d tell everything people talk about in there, they’d be run out of business. Made Mattis mad enough to ask them to leave.” 

She concludes her speech with a satisfied huff that sends her short strawberry blond corkscrew curls bouncing around her cheeks. “I’m sorry for being this angry, but awful people like that set me off. They’ve been spreading bigger lies than that Titan wedding nonsense in the paper. Eren is one of us. He’s never done anything wrong, kind soul he is, and it just isn’t right. We want you to know we’ve got your back. They won’t get anything but Eren’s praises out of us. Even Norman is angry.”

Strengthened by her vehement display of loyalty, Levi nods. “Thank you. But we’re doing all right.” Feeling Diane’s worry-wrinkled gaze on him again, he tries to stir the topic into another direction before he snaps and says things he’d rather keep to himself. “Can I get you some tea, Evelyn?” 

“Oh, that would be lovely, thank you,” she replies, easing some of Levi’s inner tension when she takes Valentin’s vacated bar stool next to Diane. 

She sets her basket onto the countertop. Regarding the soft thud it makes when it meets the brass, in addition to the creaking sounds of wicker when it relaxes, it must contain something heavy. “I think today’s a good day for a rose infusion. I haven’t had that one in a while, though it lifts the spirit so wonderfully.”

Levi hums and moves into the staff department to fetch the freshly cleaned tea pots to store behind the counter.

Meanwhile, Evelyn turns to Diane. “Have you seen the royal carriage too, Diane? Frey was so giddy when he returned from his round this morning. Can’t stop raving about Queen Historia’s smile and her handshake. We’re so proud of him.”

“No, I haven’t,” Diane says. “I’ve been at the hospital and at the playschool all morning.”

“Oh, how silly of me,” Evelyn exclaims, assuming a rueful expression. She lifts her hand to her mouth before reaching out to pat Diane’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Diane. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Diane shakes her head, a mild smile softening her concerned frown. “That’s all right. Life goes on after all. Is it true Frey shook the Queen’s hand?”

“It is!” Evelyn declares with gleaming blue eyes, turning to Levi. “Isn’t it?”

“Mm.” He arranges the tea pot on the work surface before him and pushes himself to add, “It is.” 

“He’s always been such a good son,” Evelyn gushes. “Hardworking too. It’s just a handshake from another person, of course, we know that. But still. One always wishes the best for one’s children, especially when they turned out as right as our Frey.” 

Watching her doting expression, Levi reaches for the caddie with the relaxing herbal infusion Evelyn requested. The rose petals greet his eyes when he opens it, their pink little buds smelling like preserved summer and sunshine on a meadow. It truly is a good day for this infusion. Maybe he should pour himself a cup as well. An endless stream of Jasmine tea and chamomile brew can only do so much.

He spoons the required amount into a sieve and fills the chosen tea pot with hot water, turning the sandglass around for the right steeping time. All the while Evelyn chatters on. 

“It’s such a shame I didn’t see the carriage myself. It must be so beautiful. But Norman and I were busy with the shop’s first rush. We heard a carriage and people tell us it really did pass through our street.” Her blue eyes look at Levi. “Did Queen Historia enjoy our cake? Gwendolyn told us she saw an empty plate on the counter this morning.”

“Cherry pie,” Levi answers. “And yes, she did.”

Delighted, Evelyn hops in her chair. “Oh, this is wonderful! I must tell Norman. He’ll be so thrilled. It’s his family’s recipe, you see. Has been passed down through the generations for ages. Did you serve it pure?”

“With clotted cream.”

Sighing, Evelyn beams at him as if all her dreams came true. “Good man. It’s perfect that way.”

While Levi grants her a small smile, Diane looks at her decorated pocket watch and jerks in her seat. 

“Oh, shoot! Can I take this out with me, Levi?” she asks as she wraps the rest of her cinnamon roll into the napkin. “I’ve gotta run.”

“Of course.” He frowns, taking in her appearance. “Do you need anything else?”

Her eyes still look troubled yet have lost their previous gloom as she stands and produces a small purse. “No, I’m fine.” The scarf is wrapped around her shoulders, enhancing the blue of her eyes. “Keep the change. And thank you, again. See you around, Evelyn. Say hello to Norman and Frey, will you? Your buns are fantastic again.” 

“Oh, thank you. So sweet of you,” Evelyn replies. “And I will, Diane. Please tell Margret we hope she’ll be better soon.”

“Thank you. I will.” Answering Evelyn’s hand reaching for her arm with a soft, grateful pat in return, Diane smiles. Then she nods at Levi and leaves, the bell chiming above her head. One hand buried deep in a pocket of her coat, the other holding on to her sweet lunch. Her back a straight, strong line.

Evelyn looks after her, mouth pinched in cordial worry, while Levi clears Diane’s space. He frowns as his eyes land on her money. She paid for the pastry after all. 

“It’s awful that bad things happen to such good people,” Evelyn says. “But that’s life, isn’t it? All we can do is make the best of it and help where we can.”

“Hm.” 

Evelyn’s blue eyes meet his. “It’s horrible to see your mother ill without being able to help much.”

Swallowing against the sickness wanting to rise up his throat, Levi reaches for a cloth to clean the countertop. His chest feels as though it was constricting his lungs, adding to the insomnia-caused heaviness in his joints and his already unsettled heartbeat. 

He usually blocks out childhood memories well enough that they don’t affect him. Eren throwing up so much, however, seems to have jarred them free. Now they cascade within his mind in endless streams, gathering around his ribcage and pulling tight. His mother’s blurred image mingles with Eren’s haggard, tear-streaked face at Magda’s. Steadying Eren on his shaky legs when they went home yesterday morphs into trying to help his mother reach her bed. His mother’s agonized expression slides into Eren’s careworn face when he almost passed out in their kitchen after dinner. 

Levi supposes if he could be with Eren during the day as he used to, so he knew Eren was coming out of it unscathed, it would be easier to bear. He trusts Hanji, without question, but sometimes she is so deep in her own head she misses out on some crucial signals until it’s too late, the damage already done. He can’t do much from here. The feeling of passivity, of being unable to make a difference, is the worst part of it all. 

Instinct demands him to go out and change something. Not to sit back, pour tea and coffee whilst answering to wool-gatherings about weddings and Queens as if real life didn’t happen. 

“What’s in the basket?” he asks Evelyn in search of a distraction. He has a feeling whatever she brought over, it’s for him. It always is. “More cakes?”

In spite of his breathless and almost cantankerous tone, her gaze warms with delight, and she takes the bait. “I heard you and Eren liked the lemon pie. Did I ever tell you it was the first cake Norman ever made me? I knew right then and there. Always takes me back. It’s a good choice for here. Something sweetly sour to add to your selection. It’s been missing so far, don’t you think? Same as the blueberry muffins. They’ll make an excellent breakfast addition.”

It hurts his cheeks, but Levi finds a tense if cordial smile for her while Evelyn speaks on. 

“But no, actually, I brought you dinner.” Pulling the basket closer, she reaches into it to produce a glazed clay casserole dish, covered by a protective tea towel. “I made too much, you see?” 

“Did you now?” Levi asks in mock-surprise as she plunks the casserole onto the counter with a smile. 

Of course she’s brought food. It’s what Evelyn does. She’d probably explode if she couldn’t feed people every day, on top of all the bread and cake the family sells. Magda’s worry over Eren must have shown despite her keeping the secret about Eren’s symptoms. At least the old biddies were assuming, or witty enough to spread the rumour, Eren was getting a cold.

Admitted, the way how Evelyn presents her offering is a bit intrusive. Nevertheless, Levi is intrigued. If he’s learnt anything about Evelyn, it’s that whatever she feeds people is close to divine, and he doubts this time to be an exception. 

“What is it?” He lifts the cloth to have a look and is met by the appetising sight of a slight yellow surface that has his irritability melt away with an approving tweak of his stomach. The dish is still somewhat warm and spreads a blissful scent. Aromatic, rich, hearty. “Pie?”

“Mutton and mashed potato,” she confirms, straightening up in her seat with a delighted nod. “I made one for us and thought I could double the ingredients and bring you some too.” Evelyn leans closer. “Not much extra work but an easier evening or two for you and Eren since he’s not feeling well. Several people said he looked peckish last night right before Magda took him inside. Their lips are sealed since they figured it has something to do with those liars snooping around. Most are like Nanna Pearl and Barb. All insist he’s got a touch of that cold coming on. I wanted to make something that helps you both in your time of need. Always makes Norman and Frey perk right up, so I hope it will make Eren feel better too.”

Levi releases a quiet breath. Of course, people noticed Eren stumbling along on his way home last night. At least whoever it was, they have decided to watch out for Eren.

Evelyn pats an edge of the covered dish. “The ingredients are all done, so you can eat it even cold, but it will be better when it’s hot. So you best cook it tonight until the surface looks a little more crisp. If you have any leftovers, heating it tomorrow will be enough.”

Levi’s mouth waters at the description. Divine indeed. It will be perfect for Eren too after another straining day. Nurturing meat and potatoes, all warming him through and supplying him with extra strength to guide him back to his dimpled smile. 

“Thank you, Evelyn,” Levi says, not stupid enough to refuse food, especially an honest meal this good. Draping the towel back around the casserole, he takes it to store it behind his counter, next to Arne’s bundle of fawn fur. “The next caddy of tea is on me.”

Her blooming cheeks glow under twinkling eyes and her curls bob around her kind face as her hand flaps in a little dismissing wave. “You’re too kind. That won’t be necessary. But I gladly accept it, of course. I already brewed the one you gave me yesterday for breakfast this morning. Splendid match for butter-roasted rye bread and fried eggs.”

Levi’s smile comes easy this time. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Voice dropping far quieter, Evelyn demands, “Now, you must tell me. Are you and Eren in serious trouble?” Her expression is stern and fierce. “Because Norman and I will do whatever it takes for you both to have your peace. We heard Queen Historia came here because she wants to help you out, and that's all wonderful. But she can’t assist you with little daily things and make certain you’re both healthy and well.”

Taking in Evelyn’s benevolent features, Levi considers how much he wants her to know. He usually doesn’t like to accept help, let alone ask for it. Nor was he ever one to spread his personal problems around, but her concern for Eren is written all over her face, and Evelyn is a special case. Much like Magda treating Eren like her own son.

Not only is Evelyn good-natured to the core, but she knows all the people across town. With her connections, she is a useful source of information beyond the Underground soldiers providing Levi with news. Levi can’t tell her everything but it would be foolish to not offer a few details. 

Back in the old days, he'd have gone out into the streets himself, sneaking around in alleys, backstreets, and on rooftops. Blackmailing the exact right people, threatening others, and leaving well-calculated warnings along his way. He never thought he’d miss any of it, yet here he is. Hands tied by the shop he dreamt of in his young days, and longing to be out there.

Going by Evelyn’s gaze, she is aware of his predicament, at least in part. Levi relents. 

“Can you tell me whenever stranger Military Policemen try to stir trouble about Eren?” he asks. “Get us their names whenever it happens?” 

Frowning, she leans back in her barstool. “But of course.” She almost sounds offended. 

Levi nods. “Then we’ll be all right. Knowing the names helps Commander Zoe silence them easier. Supreme Commander Zackley and Queen Historia want to stop that small faction’s harassment.”

Evelyn tuts at his evasive answer. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else? Rita’s always worried about Eren about this time each month. She won’t say why, but Teddy and Sandra know their girl’s worried about him. We really want to make things easier for you wherever we can. It’s often the little things that help most, Levi. If there’s anything Frey or I can bring you over tomorrow…”

Her soft brow is furrowed, and in combination with the rose aroma spreading from the steeping tea pot before him, some of Levi’s defences crumble. He thinks of the heartier breakfasts, plus lunch packages he needs to make for Eren during the last week of each month. The number of sleepless nights he’s going to have during those times before Eren takes his next injection. How in phases of stress Eren’s body burns food quicker than a forest fire. He also thinks of his weekly bread order Evelyn will bring along tomorrow, most likely with another basket filled with goods in her compulsive altruism. 

With the delivery Magda sent earlier, Levi is already supplied with unshelled walnuts, almonds, storage apples and pears, dried apricots, and more chocolate for emergency snacks and energy boosts. With Eren’s active metabolism, however, and Eren being in danger of feeling sick for the rest of the week, Levi needs more.

“What’s the most nutritious bread you’ve got?” he asks. Far better to decide on his own what Evelyn’s extra basket will contain while he still can.

Evelyn perks up. “There’s a rye meal bread with lots of nuts and seeds in it. It’s dark and rich. We’ve also got pumpernickel. It’s not quite as substantial, but it comes close. They’re wonderful for storage. Take a while to dry out, you see, especially the pumpernickel. We always make a single batch each month, but if stored well in a can, it lasts for over a year. If you don’t open it, that is. But even then it lasts longer than others. Norman also makes several fruit and nut breads that stick to the ribs. One’s got lemon zest in it. Good for colds.”

It sounds like a better option than bagels or wheat bread sandwiches, so Levi nods. “One of the rye and pumpernickel for tomorrow instead of the ordered toast then. An additional bottle of milk, some butter, and some oat flakes would be good too. I can provide you with a box for the cereals.” 

During his listing, Evelyn’s smile widens until her eyes sparkle. She seems to be growing on her stool with every word. “Consider it done. And no need, we’ve got something for the cereals. I’d also be happy to order things for you in town if you need anything else we don’t have at the bakery. Svend has a special offer for black pudding this week for example. I don’t know if you heard. Or we could help you with dinner as today? It truly would be no bother if it helps you both. Magda and Simone said they’d be happy to cook something up for you as well. Magda’s making her deep dish chicken and vegetable casserole tomorrow and could easily make a second dish, and Simone’s says with her pub an additional two mouths are not worth the mention.”

Going through his options, Levi studies Evelyn’s face, and sighs. It would be a relief not having to cook during Eren’s critical days. Even should Eren feel fine, it would give him a breather. Some additional valuable minutes of rest they wouldn’t have to spend with grocery shopping, recipe decisions, and cooking. It also would give Evelyn and Magda something to do that keeps them off his back. If they’re cooking, they have less time to pester Levi with questions. A win-win solution. 

“Would you arrange a daily dinner delivery for the last week of each month then?” Levi asks, talking on before she has a chance. “I’ll pay you extra for setting it up and the providers can bill me for the food and preparation.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” Evelyn cheers, clapping her hands once before folding them. “We’d be happy to, Levi. Any particular wishes on the ingredients?”

“Yes,” Levi says. “Nothing fancy. Anything strengthening. Generous portions. Easy to heat up. Like this.” He gestures at the pie and finds an honest, grateful smile for her whilst feeding her with just enough extra information to make her feel included. “We’re not picky. Eren likes potatoes, ham, and sausages. I like everything that grew under the sky.”

“I told you we’d be able to help you,” Evelyn says, cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming with delight. “Norman and Magda will be so happy when I tell them, and Simone too. You won’t regret it. When do you want the first dish?”

“Tomorrow if possible, but there’s no haste,” Levi says, gesticulating at the pie once more. “We’re covered for today, and the pantry isn’t empty yet.”

“Well, better to be safe than sorry, but whatever you say. If anything else comes to your mind by morning, don’t hesitate to mention it to Frey. I’ll bring it over with the rest then.”

Levi nods. “Thank you.”

The hourglass has run out of sand, and he pours each of them a cup of golden coloured herbal infusion. Levi sets the first cup next to Evelyn’s empty basket and takes the second one for himself.

Evelyn smiles as she lifts the cup to her mouth, blowing over the surface before taking a careful little sip. “Really lovely.” 

It is, Levi agrees as he takes a sip too. The hot brew’s steam warms his palm from below, its taste untwisting some constricting knots inside.

He’s putting the cup back onto the counter with a hum when the door opens to let in a pair of Survey Corps soldiers. 

“Captain.”

Levi’s heart leaps in his chest. It’s the visit he’s been waiting for ever since Eren, Hanji, and Historia left the café. “Tom,” he greets them, “Red.” 

Levi never uses nicknames if he can avoid it, though after being called nothing else since he was a child, Red says he can't remember his given name. During his time in the Underground he used to darken his hair and eyebrows with dirt so he wouldn’t stand out too much with its flamelike brightness. These days he wears it like a flag, short-trimmed yet proud.

They both nod at Levi and take seat at the only empty table. Tom appears calm as ever whilst Red wears his usual carefree expression as he winks at a group of soldiers in the back. 

Ordering his lungs to calm the fuck down, Levi pours each of them a cup of coffee and brings it over to where they’re sitting. “Coffee?” he asks, meeting Tom’s eyes.  _ Any news? _

“Yes,” Tom says. His hand performs a motion.  _ Everything’s under control. _

Levi hums his understanding, his biggest worries leaving his lungs on his next exhale.

“Never saw anyone so displeased during a good meal,” Red adds under his breath after a brief glance around. “Dimwit seethed into his lunch.” Satisfaction is deepening his voice, telling Levi all he needs to know. 

Seems as though Historia’s appearance has been effective, and going by Tom’s agreeing huff and relaxed composure, Eren is all right. Little things to be grateful for, Levi thinks, nods his thanks, and sets the coffee cups on the table. “Did your Commander drink her caffeine?” he asks.

“Seems so,” Tom says. “I’ll remind Erika to make sure she gets enough to eat.”

“Hm.” If Erika is with her, Levi doubts Hanji needs to be reminded, though it’s better to ensure they’ll all have a quieter end of the day. 

“Should we give him a bit of a scare, Captain?” Red asks. “He’ll be with us for the next two weeks, so better send a statement.”

“Hanji said no, Red,” Tom mutters. “No trouble amongst our ranks from any of us. I’ll send you out on spy duty too if you try anything. Would rather you help me keep an eye on Eren with all the snakes roaming HQ.” 

Sighing, Red shrugs in defeat before his bright poise regains the upper hand. “Ah, well. I had to ask, hadn’t I? Can’t do much, but we’ll make sure Eren’s safe, Captain.”

Humming his thanks, Levi nods. He can only agree with Hanji’s orders. It’s one thing to retaliate in harmless ways, yet a whole other thing to be outright stupid in front of a superior officer. Loyal as the Underground Squads may be towards him and Eren by proximity, it’s not worth risking their jobs and maybe even their freedom for it. They were corralled beneath the earth long enough before the Survey Corps recruited them. 

“People like them aren’t worth the attention anyway,” Levi says, nodding once more. 

“Maybe they are worth the attention a little bit.” Mischief sparkles in Tom’s pale green eyes as he lowers his voice. “Some Cadets got an idea for putting that snake to rout quick enough. Foolproof and easy to hide. Long as Eren doesn’t know, we’ll be rid of Claudio within seven days I’ll wager.”

Levi lifts a curious eyebrow, yet Tom smirks without explaining any further. Meanwhile, Red stifles a snicker whilst shooting Tom an adoring look that hasn’t lost a grain of its intensity since Levi first saw them together in a dingy back alley deep below the capital. Red was nine back then. Tom sixteen. A few years later, Tom turned Red down for the first time, and Red became an infamous philanderer, even by Underground standards, overnight. Levi sometimes muses Red’s passionate inclination for fucking everyone who enjoys his advances would stop if Tom would cease with his perpetuated assurance to never engage in anything romance-related. So far he sticks to his decision though, and Red keeps carrying his torch, savouring what Tom allows him to get.

Which includes being part of Tom’s shenanigans, whatever they may be. Levi smirks at the thought. Cajoling Claudio into leaving early by playing some tricks is what he’d do too if he still had granted access to HQ. 

“Coffee on the house for a week for you both if that happens,” he accepts the bet. 

“Heard the black market’s got a small batch of Silver Tips,” Tom replies.

Levi nods. “I heard a small batch of Li Shan arrived too.” 

He also heard about a tiny amount of Da Hong Pao, but not even Tom and Red’s combined coffee consumption over an entire month would counterbalance this deal. 

“We have a deal, Captain,” Tom says, lifting his cup and smiling through steam rising from the hot coffee. “Prepare yourself for us drinking you out of house and home.” 

Levi snorts and raises the carafe in his hand before returning to the staff area. “Tell me if you need anything.” 

Back behind the counter, Evelyn regards Levi with curious eyes crinkling in a smile. “Good news?”

“So it seems,” Levi gives away.

“Well, I’m glad,” she says, fingers curling around her cup’s handle. “It’s good when things sort themselves out for those who deserve it.”

Smiling back, Levi takes a sip of his own herbal infusion as he gives his stomach some time to settle. He exhales slowly as the tight knot inside unclenches, easing the restless writhing each further breath. Eren is safe for now. 

At the other end of the café, Red laughs at something, and by the smirk Tom shoots Levi across the café it’s clear what they’re laughing about. Or rather who. Watching them both from behind the counter, Levi taps his finger against his tea cup’s rim. 

What kind of disgusting prank is Rita planning for Claudio and his men? More likely Rita’s prank will convince the pompous arse to enforce extra days of cleaning duty.

No doubt they won’t do anything stupid. Tom won’t let his men compromise their or the Cadets’ future and reputation whilst ensuring Eren is free to come home each evening. It’s still a shame, really. Claudio could use a good little scare, and a statement. 

A sudden idea sparks in Levi’s head, forming into something tempting. It’s so simple, so evident, Levi startles at the mere artlessness of it all. Tom and his men might not be able to give Claudio too much of a fright without facing the consequences. No one at HQ can. Levi, on the other hand. He can do anything he pleases within reason.

Tom’s men are soldiers and ranked far lower than Claudio. Same as any of the men Claudio brought with him. Levi, however, isn’t a soldier anymore. Erika said so herself yesterday. The worst Claudio can do to him is yell, and make an even bigger arse out of himself than he already has. As long as Levi doesn’t step over the wrong line, Claudio can’t arrest him or do him any harm. HQ is packed with people on his, Eren, and Hanji’s side. So if things take a turn for the worse, Levi has backup. To make it even better; not only could he surprise Claudio at a place where he feels safe, but he also could show where his allegiances are and make sure Eren will come home on time from today on.

Levi smiles. “Evelyn,” he says, refocusing on her face. “Can you and Norman spread word around town that I’m closing an hour and a half early the next two weeks?”

Steam rises before her blue eyes that blink with curiosity. “Of course.”

“Good,” he says. “I’ve got a daily delivery to make.”


	9. Questions

“Instructor Eren!” 

The concordant cheer as he steps onto the training grounds is so warm Eren can’t help but grin at his class. The greeting is followed by a hustle of approaching boots, and a moment later he finds himself surrounded by a small crowd of thirteen-year-olds with their multitude of questions. 

“Were you sick, Instructor Eren?”

“Is it true you were in trouble yesterday? We missed you! You won’t leave us, will you?” 

“Was it the symptoms? Are you all right, Sir?”

“Why does the Colonel want you gone? Why is he here anyway?”

“Are you really in a relationship with Captain Levi?”

His sigh at the undivided curiosity is drowned by a chuckle coming from the back of the group. “Good to see you, dude.”

“Thanks, Con,” Eren says. “It’s good to be back.” He raises his hands with a grin, and the chatter around him dies. “Questions later, training now. I heard about another accident yesterday,” he smiles at Harold, who looks like he’s struggling against a defeated sigh at Rita’s laugh. “So let’s give it another go, shall we?”

Protesting moans erupt around him, though they only last a moment before the class salute. “Yes, Instructor Eren!”

“Let’s go then,” he says, smiling as they shuffle around him to proceed towards the woods. 

“You all right?” Connie asks, falling back to walk beside Eren. 

He nods. “I am now.” 

Rita is still close by, and Eren gives her back a gentle yet decisive push forward. She shrugs and increases her distance, though not without rolling her eyes. 

“Have a mild headache,” he clarifies with a lowered voice when she is out of earshot. “How was yesterday?”

“All right.” Connie shrugs and throws his arms in the air, gripping his elbows as they walk. “The kids were worried because you didn’t show up for class. The gossip didn’t much help matters for Sash or me.”

Though that’s nothing new, Eren can’t help but frown. “Guess not. I would have preferred to teach too instead of…well…”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Connie says, dropping his arms. “It wasn’t any trouble taking over the training. They’re good kids.”

A mild smile from deep within warms Eren through and through as he looks at the group of teenagers ahead, chattering in little groups. “They are.”

Rita has caught up with Harold and Mia, and shrugs, shaking her head. Eren shakes his head too with a snort. 

Connie follows his gaze and chuckles. “She’s one of a kind, isn’t she? She was worried the most, though. Plus Mia and Harold. You should have seen them yesterday.”

“Mm.” Eren nods. “I did. They found me before dinner. Harold’s bruise looks nasty.”

A hiss comes from his left and Eren looks at Connie just in time to see him pull a face. “Yeah, about that…”

Eren nudges his elbow against Connie’s arm with a laugh. “I told you this happens all the time. It already got better. Believe me.”

“Oh,” Connie exhales, his shoulders dropping with relief. “Good. So what happened? How come you’re not in Hanji’s office today? I didn’t expect you to be back before tomorrow.” 

Remembering the ride in the carriage, Eren sighs. “Historia’s here.”

Connie whistles. “So it is true. I wondered.”

“Yup. All true. She’s here. For two weeks as it seems.” The frown is back on Eren’s brow, darkening his thoughts. 

It’s probably better to not tell Connie about any of his most recent worries regarding Historia’s appearance. It’s not like Eren has any proof other than his own gut feeling and Levi’s concerned scowl. He does have to inform Connie about some things, however, not only as a colleague but as a friend first and foremost. 

“She’s mad at Claudio, I think. Rebuked him pretty thoroughly this morning for trying to pull some shit.” Pausing in his explanation, Eren checks his surroundings for curious ears nearby before he continues. “He yelled at us all day long and already started to draw up some nasty directives for me. Wasn’t too well by the time I got home last night.”

“Yeah, Mikasa told us at dinner,” Connie says. “Levi must have been mad.”

Recalling what he can remember from the evening before, Eren exhales a grim snort. “You could say that.” 

Levi had been mad. Mad but mostly concerned and so steadying Eren now wonders how the rest of the night would have turned out for him if Levi hadn’t made sure he got what he needed, closeness included. The thought alone makes him want to shudder.

Connie seems to think on similar tracks. “You’re all right today though?” 

Shrugging, Eren fills his lungs with the cold morning air. The sun shines down on them from a clear blue sky, and the winter birds are singing in the trees. “I should be fine.” He looks at Connie who regards him with a rare expression of serious worry. “I’ll be all right,” Eren reassures, more earnest this time. “Thanks for all the help. Sasha too. I’ll tell you if anything’s wrong. Don’t want to endanger the kids anyway.” 

Connie nods and smiles again. “Any time.” 

Eren smiles back. 

“So…Titan wedding, huh?” Connie asks with wriggling eyebrows. “Tell me how that nonsense is going. Does the whole of Paradis even have enough fabric to make tuxes for both grooms?”

Eren rolls his eyes and groans. “Not you too!”

Connie bursts into laughter so hard he has to hold his stomach, and Eren feels his own amusement tug at his lips, whether he wants to join in or not. It even casts aside the memories of Historia’s borderline decree if one could call it that. 

“Oh, shut up,” he grumbles, biting back his chuckle and giving Connie a well-deserved shove. 

Staggering back to his position beside Eren, Connie snickers. “Sorry man. It’s hilarious and I wanted to see that face of yours.” He points at Eren before wiping away some tears. “Stupidest thing I ever heard and that includes some barrack gossip about you and Jean having a thing for each other.”

“What?” Eren’s heart stutters in his chest as he trips over his own feet, barely managing to catch his fall and remain standing. 

Staring back, Connie regards him for a moment before grinning from ear to ear and bursting into laughter anew. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know about that one,” Connie wheezes, doing his best to compose himself. Despite the milder temperatures, it’s cold enough to see his mirthful outburst leaving him in dissipating puffs. His ears are slightly pink from the cold too. “Everyone must have heard it a million times by now. We all joked about it.”

Horrified, Eren can only gape and shake his head. “No!” Heat bursts up his neck and he shoots a couple of directed glances around to make nosy trainees turn around and mind their own business. 

This is ridiculous. He wonders if Jean knows about this, and cringes at the mere thought. Jean pulling him close in the corridor yesterday comes to his mind, and Eren wants to die. “Oh god,” he groans, pressing his hands against his closed eyes until he sees stars. It doesn’t help. Well, that’s an image he won’t be able to get out of his head for a while. 

“Yeah…” As though knowing Eren’s trail of thoughts, Connie nods. Opposed to Eren, however, he is still smiling, his light brown eyes looking at something in the past. “Good old times. Anyway. Stupid news, seriously. I didn’t even read the damned article myself and still know every word of it thanks to all the arguments it caused in the ranks yesterday.”

Sighing, Eren kicks a pebble across a small heap of snow and diverts. “So.” He clears his throat. “You got along well yesterday? What did you do?”

Connie is gracious enough to relent and answers with a shrug. “Stuck to the scheduled lessons, mostly. Sasha and I switched classes after lunch break. I think we should do the gear tests with the first years after the weekend. They’re almost ready and any further wait might be a waste for those who’ll have to leave. Might be a few, actually.”

Eren nods. “You made them train as planned?”

“Yeah, let them run for resilience and do a couple of muscle formation drills. Lennard is really good. Hans might have some work ahead if he passes. Lorie too. Aidan might have to go. Is a lazy bugger too.”

“Yeah.” Eren nods. “Let’s see how the test goes.” His skin prickles with the sensation of being watched. He sighs and fixes the Trainee dallying a few paces away with a stare. “Eyes ahead, Rita.” Though he manages to keep his voice stern, he can’t help but grin before he tends to the conversation with Connie again. “How’s Sasha doing?”

“Good. I think she loves teaching. She’s already planning out her survival lessons for this year.” 

“Let me guess? Hunting?”

“You know it.” Connie grins but then his expression turns serious as he pauses for a moment. “Thanks again for suggesting we’d talk to Hanji, by the way. Sasha loved the road, but she’s better with a home to come back to every evening. She’d never say it out loud, but I know.” He smiles again as his expression softens around the edges. “She’s happy here. We both are.” 

Lost for words at the open display of gratitude, Eren smiles at his feet. They’ve reached the outskirts of the forest and despite the icy snow patches the floor is soft beneath his boots. “Good,” he says after a while. “I’m glad.”

“The paperwork’s a pain in the arse though,” Connie admits, scratching his head. “Never would have thought it would be this tedious. Are the pamphlets always so stupid?” 

Chuckling, Eren looks at his friend’s grimace and sighs. “They usually are. I’ll help you with the next batch. Sorry for yesterday. Hanji told me you two took over my load.”

Connie waves him off. “Wasn’t your fault, was it? Bet you had enough to deal with as it was, facing that rabid Colonel all day. His men really hate you and Armin.” 

“Still,” Eren says. It’s bad enough Connie had to take over the class for the entire previous day. He and Sasha shouldn’t have had to deal with a whole week worth of Eren’s paperwork on top of everything. “Thanks. Next coffee and cake in the Sparrow for you two are on me.”

“For us both?” Amusement glints in Connie’s eyes as he raises his hands in a teasing gesture of defeat. “Sure. Dig your own grave, man. You know what you’re getting into. I won’t stop you.”

Eren laughs and gives Connie another playful shove. Connie shoves back, and Eren wrestles him into a headlock before letting him go, coming to a halt in the middle of a clearing. 

“Okay, folks,” he announces to the class. “Time for some drills.”

 

*

 

Although Eren enjoys the fresh air during the gear drills, and the horse training afterwards, it doesn’t help him to get rid of his headaches.

“Sure you doing all right, dude?” Connie says as they sit down at their usual table in the mess hall. “You look a bit pale.”

Arranging his tray into a neat position as he scowls at his lunch, Eren sighs and leans back in his chair. He has to admit the ten hours of rest last night might have been good, yet clearly not enough. He overdid it yesterday, and now he has to pay the price for it. The lunch attendants stomp, yell, and clatter with their dishes, and within the sound-reflecting walls, Eren soon is overwhelmed with noise. 

He can’t even revel in Claudio’s sour expression who sits in the midst of his men in the far end of the room, looking as though he’s close to strangling someone. Their eyes meet across the hall, and Eren has a feeling who that someone would be if Claudio had a say in it. 

Not wanting to push his luck, Eren tends to his soup and ignores the idiot. It’s enough for him they’ll meet again for Eren’s check-in this evening.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, suppressing a wince when a chair somewhere behind him scrapes across the floor with a shrill shriek. 

Maybe it would have been better to have lunch at his private quarters where he could have it quiet. Nobody would mind if he laid down for a few minutes. Perhaps he also should reconsider going to the lab to ask Cookie for the painkillers Hanji offered this morning, now that the immediate threat of having to face Claudio seems to have subsided. He wonders how Hanji’s head isn’t close to exploding too with that idiot screaming at her all day long. 

With that thought in mind, Eren looks around for Hanji. She sits a few tables away between Historia, Erika, and Tom. Her hands flail around her head as she talks and adds to the cacophony in the hall with her laughter. 

“She looks happy,” Eren thinks out loud, reaching for his bread to take a generous bite.

“Yeah, I hear some talk about Claudio losing some arguments already,” Sasha says as she takes one of the seats beside Connie with a smile. “Also seems like two of Claudio’s men tried to make waves today. Historia’s guards broke up a fight with one of our guys.” 

Hand stilling with his bread in mid-air, Eren frowns. “What?”

“Yeah, they gaoled all three of them for the rest of the day. According to Tom, Niv says the pokey-time is worth the fighting back. Apparently, that Xenophilius guy went too far or something and he didn’t like that Caroline-something’s face…Anyway,” she adds, shifting in her chair to find the best position. “Seems like your licence to live at the Sparrow went through, so congratulations.” 

Eren rolls his eyes. “I’m not living at the café. We’re living at the flat upstairs.” 

“Sounds the same to me.” Sasha takes her spoon, regards her tray with an anticipating sigh, and then pitches so deep into her meal she looks like a wild beast tearing at its prey. She even makes similar sounds as her teeth rip a big chunk off her bread. Eren could be mistaken, but she seems even more ravenous than usual.

Taking her appearance in as well, Connie grins before fixing Eren with a pointed gaze. “Sure the offer still stands?”

Eren smiles. “I am.”

“What offer?” Sasha smacks her lips in-between bites. 

Glancing at Eren, Connie grins. “Watch this.” He turns to Sasha and takes a deep breath before he reveals, “Eren is taking us out to feed us.” 

Connie hasn’t even finished talking when Sasha’s eyes widen and her cheeks assume an enraptured glow. “You will? This is the best news ever!” Her arms shoot in the air before she clutches her spoon to her chest and looks at Eren across the table with a slightly engrossed gaze. “I love you.”

While Eren smiles at Sasha, Connie shakes his head at her with a drawn-out sigh, his elbow coming to a rest on the tabletop. “Ah, that’s the dream. Your woman swooning over other men, and one of your best friends trying to woo her.” 

Heat prickling up his chest at the implication, Eren straightens up in his seat to fend any accusation off, but Connie winks at him and chuckles. “Relax, dude. Do you really think she would give me up anyway? I’m a catch!”

Appeased by the honest amusement in Connie’s eyes, Eren sinks back in his chair, though his throat still feels hot. As much as he loves Sasha as a friend, he never thought of her like that. The mere idea of her and him in a compromising position is all kinds of wrong. He shoves the images aside to bury them in a deep dark corner inside his head, right next to the spot marked ‘Jean.’

Seemingly unaware of Eren’s discomfort, Sasha meanwhile stares. “It’s food, Con. Food. Wait!” The glow in her cheeks spreads across her whole appearance while she looks like she’s growing in her seat. “What kind of food? There won’t be meat, will there?”

Eren regards her for a second. Breadcrumbs mark the spot around her place, soup drips from her spoon, and some more soup smudges her chin. 

“Cake,” he says, grinning at her enthralled gaze.

“Cake!” she sighs, eyes focusing on something far away, as though she can already see the feast. “I should have known. But hooray! When can we come?”

Not having much considered the when so far, Eren shrugs. “This weekend, perhaps?”

“Sounds good,” Connie says whilst skilfully manoeuvring Sasha’s hand away when she tries to steal his bread. “Ask for it, woman. Your man’s gotta eat too to keep up.”

“Oh, pretty please?” she begs and kisses his cheek when Connie grins and hands the bread over. It vanishes within no time. 

“We’ll be there, Eren.” Sasha beams and continues inhaling her soup at rapid speed. 

To finish it before it gets cold, Eren muses to himself as he tends to his own lunch, and startles. His bowl is empty. Has he been so hungry he didn’t even notice he’d finished eating? 

His stomach growls at the sight of the thoroughly cleaned dish with only a few leftover breadcrumbs on his tray, and Eren gulps. Although the food supply experienced a boom with the reclaiming of the Walls and the territory beyond, the military rations are far from opulent. It’s become better in general, and he assumes the only one truly being hungry after the meals is Sasha. Except with Armin and him when the symptoms strike. It’s long since it's been this bad, admittedly, but still. There are directives allowing Armin and him to ask for more food during the critical days, but Eren loathes to. It feels like eating other soldiers’ rations.

He’s about to consider making an exception when he remembers the bundle with Levi’s supplies in his quarters, and his stomach flips in agreement. 

“For someone this pale, you’re in a disturbingly good mood,” Jean’s voice says as he plops down to Eren’s right, his light brown eyebrows furrowed. “You all right, mate?”

Trying to come up with a snappish retort, yet failing, Eren sighs. “Yeah. Fucking headache, that’s all.” Then he notices the vacant space around Jean and frowns. “Where’s Mikasa?” 

“Still busy with the squad,” he says, digging into his lunch while Sasha finishes with her soup and begins to lick her bowl clean.

“You’re in her squad,” Eren points out the obvious. “Why are you here?”

In spite of an eye roll at Eren’s question, Jean’s expression is a bit too joyful for Eren’s liking. “Because I was a good boy.”

“Yeah, right.” The snort is out before Eren can hold it back, yet Jean replies with a widening smirk and joins in Sasha’s high five over the table.

“Nice,” she says.

Connie chuckles. “Did your homework, Jean, didn’t you?”

“You know it, mate.”

A burst of laughter at the first years’ table draws Eren’s attention. It looks like Lennard stuffed something into Anna’s collar. She’s kicked his chair aside in revenge, making him land on his arse. He stands now, scowling at her before bursting into a chuckle and retrieving his chair while she produces a crumpled paper ball out of her shirt. A few chairs further, Hans struggles in a headlock, and Phillip and Ian are shouting at each other. Again. Bickering over nothing of importance, Eren assumes. 

“Lively bunch today, huh?” Connie asks, following Eren’s gaze. 

“Seems so,” he says, resisting the urge to hold his throbbing skull. 

Connie shrugs. “We could switch plans for this afternoon.” Glancing at Sasha when she sets aside her close to sparkling clean bowl, he gestures at his cheek. 

She wipes some soup away from her face before licking it off her hand with a “Thanks, babe,” while Connie returns to his conversation with Eren. “Do some theory instead of the muscle training?”

Eren shakes his head. “It would be better to continue with drills for their tests next week.”

“I could do that on my own,” Connie offers. 

Eren wants to flat out refuse, yet a voice inside his head alongside Jean’s observant scowl hold him back. He’s feeling beaten at noon on a Tuesday, with four and a half more days until he can finally take the serum. He doesn’t want to worry anyone more than he already does. Besides, if this would have happened last year while he was still teaching alone, he’d probably asked Una or Hanji to help him out anyway.

“I’ll see how it goes,” he decides, picking on his napkin. “I’d like to be there at least partly. They’ll be worried if I’m not in class again, and I can still do a bit. Even if it’s paperwork.”

“Whatever you want,” Connie says with raised hands. “I’ll send you home though if you don’t look too well.”

“You have no right to do so,” Eren says in a weak attempt to tease and complain at the same time. 

“Really?” Folding his arms in a dramatic gesture, Connie grins. “Let’s see. I'm friends with your sister, and her boo, and I’d like to keep things that way.”

“You’re a boo,” Jean scoffs over his soup, yet Connie ignores him. 

“Also, Captain Levi would hunt me down if we have to scrape you off the floor, and then this lovely woman,” he nods at Sasha, “will kill me because I deprived her of the promised cake this weekend. Can you imagine how horrible my life would be after that?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Eren says, waving him off. “All right.” He has to admit, these are all solid points.

“Don’t ruin the cake, Eren,” Sasha pleads. “I’m so much looking forward to it already. Afterwards, I don’t really care what you do, but I have to agree on the Mikasa and Captain Levi part. I don’t worry about Jean though. Jean would never lay a finger on me.” She shoots Jean a bright smile. “Isn’t that right, boo?”

“Wouldn’t bet on it in this case,” he says, but throws a slice of bread at her. 

“Wahoo!” She catches it with a cheer and stuffs the whole thing into her mouth in one piece that muffles her grateful “Thanks.”

The sight elicits another vehement growl from Eren’s stomach, reminding him of the rye bread, butter, goat curd, and winter salad sandwiches waiting for him in his quarters. And if the sudden yawn is anything to go by, a brief nap would probably be a good idea too. 

 

*

 

The nap is a good idea indeed. When he leaves his quarters an hour later to join Connie for their afternoon classes, Eren’s headache has faded into a distant discomfort. It’s mild enough he’s looking forward to seeing the first-years with their bustling energy. Even if that should mean encountering another set of questions concerning the ongoing rumours. 

Although gear training kept the second-years busy for the first lesson, Eren and Connie weren’t able to fend off the curiosity for too long. What Eren gave away in the end was: Yes, he is back in class and doesn’t intend to leave, yes, he is in a relationship with Captain Levi and is living at his house, and no, there won’t be any wedding soon. The latter was received with lots of disappointed “oh’s”, “why not’s,” and “are you sure’s,” plus of course an impish grin from Connie alongside the comment Eren was too shy to propose. As expected, the remark was welcomed with various practical tips, giggles, and some suggestions Eren wishes he’d never heard about. 

He is wondering whether the meeting with the first-years will go exactly the same when an approaching voice calls at his back and makes him stop in his tracks. “Instructor Eren.” 

“Yes, Rita?” he asks, turning around. 

“We were looking for you.” As usual, she’s flanked by Harold and Mia, who holds out a protein bar with a serious expression. 

“Here, Instructor Eren, Sir. We thought you might need something to strengthen up. It’s from our personal provisions.”

He stares at the bar, motionless. Then the meaning sinks in, and he smiles as his whole body seems to expand with boundless adoration for these kids. They don’t know he had an extra portion of lunch today. They thought he had the regular rations, and after seeing him yesterday on his way out plus spending the entire morning with him, they want to help in case it might not be enough. Which it wouldn’t have been without Levi’s sandwiches.

Taking the food, Eren reaches for something to say. “Thank you, Mia!” he says, emotions roughening his words.

Though she smiles back, her blue eyes are still dark with concern. 

“Are you all right, Sir?” Harold asks. Over the day his bruise has darkened, but at least the cheek stopped swelling. The wound is healing.

“We hope we haven’t been too straining,” Mia adds. “Harold told everyone to ask you fewer questions about you and Captain Levi, but they wouldn’t listen.” She darts a pointed glance at Rita, who answers with a shrug and an expression displaying both mild guilt and notorious cheek.

“No, Mia,” Eren assures her with a smile. “You are good. You all are. And yes, I am better. Thank you, Harold.”

The shadow lifts from Mia’s features as her smile widens. “Queen Historia told me on our way to lunch you’re safe now, and that you’ll stay with us. So you aren’t going to be working at the Sparrow full-time, are you?” 

“No,” he says, smiling at Mia’s nod and Harold’s relieved sigh and silently thanking Historia for taking her time to talk to Mia. “I’m staying on as your Instructor.”

“See?” Rita says to her friends. “I told you.” Then she grins up at Eren. “We’re really glad you’re staying. Would have been boring without you.” She stops to scrunch her nose. “No offence to Instructor Sasha and Instructor Connie, but I like you better.”

“Don’t let them hear that.” Eren chuckles. “I’m glad I’m staying too.”

Rita crosses her arms. “Good. Also, listen to this: What do a bullfrog and a busybody have in common?” Beside her, Harold and Mia try not to laugh while Rita looks as though she’s close to bursting with malicious joy. 

Having a feeling where this might be heading to, Eren mirrors her folded arms. “Are you making fun of a superior officer, Rita?” he asks, biting on the inside of his mouth to contain an adamant expression. 

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, your popularity is shrinking. No, I’m not. I’m not mentioning any names, am I? Come on, I swear, you’ll laugh.” 

Snorting at the girl’s audacity, Eren lets her off the hook, trying to come up with a fitting reply that describes Claudio’s appearance during lunch. “Okay, let me think. They’re both ugly.” 

“Close!” she says and explains. “They’re both nasty, and once deflated, they look only half their size.”

Grinning, Eren can’t bite back a snorted chuckle at the comparison and the images in his head. It doesn’t help they are supported by Rita blowing her cheeks as she puffs the air out with a sagging motion. 

“That truly was a good one,” he admits when she straightens up again.

Dark eyes sparkling, Rita leans forward to box his arm. “See? It was funny. Anyways. It’s good you’re feeling better, Instructor Eren.”

He smiles. “Thank you, Rita. Don’t spread it around though. I don’t want you getting in trouble. All right?”

“No worries, we won’t. We promised yesterday after all.” She gestures at the protein bar. “Just thought you needed something to lift you up. Food is good but laughter is better sometimes. Remember to tell it to Captain Levi too, will you?”

Boxing her arm in return, Eren nods. Yes, Levi would like this one as well. “I will.” Then he sends them off to their afternoon lessons with Sasha.

While he continues on his way to his own class with Connie, Eren thinks about Levi. About how his day might go and if Diane got her scarf back. If his day is as busy as the one yesterday must have been. Whether he had to answer more questions about silly wedding rumours too and fend off more help. Maybe he even has to parry more absurd almost-demands and the obtuse viewpoint marrying wouldn’t be a mere option for them but a duty. 

The thought makes Eren frown and halt in the corridor as he lets a group of hasting soldiers pass him by. Has it really not even been a week since that evening Eren assured him he’s fine with whatever Levi wants? 

So much seems to have happened since then. And yet, nothing has changed regarding how he feels. On the contrary. If anything, the past days and Historia’s order from this morning have fortified his opinion on this topic. He wants Levi in whichever way Levi is willing to. Eren himself has made his decision the moment he sat in Levi’s leather armchair, realising he never really had a say in it whether he loved Levi or not. He gave away his heart back then, right beside a game of chess, a cup of Gunpowder, and Levi’s fireplace. No conditions. No regret. It’s been the best choice he’s ever made, and he won’t take it back. 

Just thinking of Levi makes his skin tingle and his heart swell with a smile from deep within. It makes him feel like for once in his life he did the right thing. The only important right thing. With Levi, he can close his eyes to the world and is able to believe it’s not all cruel and lonely. He wants to protect and allow him to protect in return. It’s what they both do best after all. He wants to awake at Levi’s side every morning, look into his sleep-hazed eyes before the mental walls go up and thank Levi for letting him in. He wants to rub Levi’s feet when he’s tired, and tickle a smile out of him whenever he’s allowed. He wants to ease his worries, wants to kiss Levi before closing his eyes at night and guard his dreams whilst warming Levi’s feet. Eren is bound for good. Marriage or the prospect of it doesn’t change any of that. He knows it doesn’t for Levi either. 

Whatever Levi will need Eren to be, Eren will give his all. After all the things he’s done—making Levi wait, fooling himself, causing them both so much unnecessary pain before coming to his senses—this decision should be Levi’s. Levi’s alone.

Levi will know what to do. And Eren will follow. 


	10. Fawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though this chapter would be a perfect section to start the new year with, I wanted you to spoil you with a little Christmas/New Year's surprise. I do not have a season-themed fic this year, but I can post this extra-curricular update and hope it contains everything to make you smile, swoon, cheer, and perhaps squeak a little too. 
> 
> A little side note for the audiophiles amongst us: The second part of this chapter was written with the gorgeous song Salka by Sigur Rós playing in an endless loop in the background, which—as I've been told—one apparently can feel.
> 
> It's been an honour to write and share my stories with you in 2018. I hope 2019 will welcome you with a warm embrace and a thousand stars glittering on the night sky. Stay safe. And enjoy. <3

The first street lamps add spots of glowing light to the obscuring dusk when Levi steps out into the street, closing the Sparrow behind him with a cheerful sendoff of the bell. 

After the brief episode with Hanji and their joint search party, locking up the café from this side of the door feels even odder than the previous night. The last time he left the house on his own was when he went to buy two tiny tins with Oolong in a seedy back alley in autumn, but it lacked the strange kick of anticipating excitement that has been tingling in his body since noon.

Clasping two freshly filled thermos flasks under his arm, he smiles to himself and heads towards HQ; each purposeful step bringing him closer to a little bit of self-indulgent fun. The start is already going well. Evelyn has been thorough with spreading the news about his early closing time. He didn’t even have to urge anyone out of the café. Every single customer made sure to be gone by five thirty sharp on their own. Levi even had time to clean everything up before he left.

“Good evening, Captain,” Mattis says as they pass each other, tipping his Homburg and granting Levi a friendly smile.

“Hello Mattis,” Levi replies, stopping in his stride. 

“Closing early for a few days, I heard. Private matter? I hope nothing bad. We’ve been hearing all kinds of things this week.”

“Nothing to worry in this case,” Levi says and supplies the barber with the official reason for his visit at the Survey Corps base. “Just making a coffee delivery for the Commander and Queen Historia.”

“Oh.” Mattis nods. “Good to know then. Eren must be happy to see you.”

Levi hums and feigns nonchalant surprise at the idea. “Well, if we meet while I’m there. Thank you for keeping your eyes open to the strangers, by the way. Evelyn told me they bothered you?”

Mattis’ hand shoots out to his hat to keep it from being blown away by a sudden gust of wind that tugs on Levi’s coat hem. “Oh, that goes without saying, Captain. I didn’t like their ways.”

“You didn’t catch their names by any chance?” Levi asks.

“No that not, I’m afraid,” he replies, hands coming to a rest at his sides again. “But one was a woman with a black ponytail and the other was a nasty fella. Didn’t like his eyes much.”

Levi nods. The two idiots who’ve been too flustered to talk to him the day before. “That helps, thank you. I’ll pass it on.”

Mattis smiles. “Any time, Captain. Happy to help.”

Making an agreeing sound, Levi indicates the flasks in his arms. “Well then. Better get the delivery done as long as the coffee’s still hot. Have a good evening, Mattis.”

“Same to you and Eren, Captain.”

“Mm.” It’s almost surprising what a single decision can change, Levi muses as he turns. Though his inner unease hasn’t abated during the course of the day, the choice to do something, to face his enemies at his own terms, has caused a rejuvenated lightness in his chest. He hasn’t felt this focussed in a long time.

The fresh December air fills his lungs with encouraging strength. He can’t help but think if he were a far less vigilant man, he’d whistle on his way. Experience punched any inclination towards that out of him a long time ago. So he proceeds in silence, attentive eyes open to any suspicious people or happenings crossing his path, and right hand in his pocket ready to draw his knives.

The glances he collects the closer he comes to his destination increase, as do the cheerful greetings. 

“Captain Levi! Well, what a surprise. What brings you here?”

“Special coffee delivery for the Commander, Ray,” Levi says whilst nodding at the flasks under his arm. “She still in her office?”

“Yes, yes she is. Has been in there all day. Eren must be there now too. Saw him going there earlier. Colonel Claudio will be there as well, though.” Ray pulls an apologetic face. 

“Into the lion’s den then,” Levi says with a dramatic sigh, biting back a smile and ordering his features into a contrite scowl instead. Tom’s information on Eren’s vespertine check-ins was right to the point. 

Everything goes exactly as he planned.

He’s nearly reached Hanji’s office when a familiar voice at his back calls out, making him turn. “Hello, Levi.”

“Hello, Mikasa,” Levi says. “Jean.”

“Captain,” Jean says with a neutral scowl, folding his arms as he comes to a stop. 

“What are you doing here?” Mikasa asks, halting beside Levi as well. “Is Eren in more trouble?”

“Hope not,” Levi says. “But four-eyes needs her coffee. Thought I could hit a few birds with one stone.” He lifts both thermoses with a smirk.

Mirth flashes up in Mikasa’s grey eyes at the tiny smile Levi lets them see, and Jean snorts. 

“That will serve him right,” Mikasa says. “He’s been a nuisance here ever since he arrived on Sunday. Asked us a few questions too.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “He did?” He isn’t too surprised. Claudio would try to turn every single stone he could find, yet asking Mikasa for dirt on her brother must be the most ridiculous thing anyone ever tried.

“Mm. I don’t think he liked much what we said.”

“His exact words were ‘damned madhouse,’” Jean supplies with a satisfied smirk. 

Mikasa smiles and Levi can’t help but join in. 

“We’ve been wanting to see you,” Mikasa says, her smile making way for a concerned expression. “Eren told us about the symptoms he had. He wasn’t well Monday morning?” she asks. “How bad was it? All he told us was ‘the usual.’”

Levi holds her gaze. “If the usual means vomiting bile after he woke up with a severe headache? Yes.” The words feel heavy in his throat as though they wanted to stay inside. His jaw is tense too, clenching his teeth shut and straining the muscles in his neck. 

She nods as the frown on her brow deepens into a disapproving grimace. “It’s rare for the headaches to get that bad, Levi. But yes. It happens. Most migraines are quick to vanish if he eats a hearty meal and gets some rest.”

“Yes, he and four-eyes told me about that,” Levi says, pausing when a group of soldiers pass them in the corridor. They shoot them curious glances but push each other along, leaving the three of them to themselves with only a few greeting salutes at Levi. 

“How was he this morning?” Jean asks when they’re gone.

“Better,” Levi replies. “Did you see him at lunch?”

Jean harrumphs in affirmation. “Briefly. Looked a bit pale but well enough though.”

Levi nods. 

“I might have informed you if I’d known you weren’t aware of the symptoms,” Mikasa says, conflict darkening her eyes. “But I guess it wasn’t my place.”

“No, Mikasa,” Levi says and manages an honest smile alongside a shake of his head. “It wasn’t.”

Nodding as the tension in her shoulders eases, she sighs. “I keep an eye on him during the days before injections. Though you can do that far better now.” She smiles, not having to continue. 

She’s right, Levi supposes. Regarding Eren has moved in with him, Mikasa and Eren will still see each other, yet with shared breakfast out of the picture, their time together is mainly restricted to lunch breaks these days. 

“How is he usually right after the injections?” Levi asks. 

Mikasa shrugs. “It differs. Most visible effects vanish within minutes and he gets bouncy, but the exhaustion takes a bit longer. Armin mostly takes a couple of hours to recover fully, but his symptoms aren’t as bad. Eren tends to need about a day. We had a few nasty incidences on the road that took him longer to overcome. By now I think not everything was related to the Titan symptoms though.” Her smile turns soft. “Things got better once we returned. A lot, actually. Especially during this month.” 

Levi hums. Mikasa doesn’t have to explain this either. Not anymore. 

Mikasa looks at Jean who clears his throat. “He’s a stubborn fuck whenever the symptoms strike. He still thinks we don’t see it when they wear him down. Tries to hide it and sometimes makes it worse. Kasa is right though. He has become better since we returned. And it’s different this time around. He actually talks about some of the shit going on in his head instead of stuffing it. More or less. Sometimes he even yells it, but that’s nothing new.”

Levi's lips twitch as he nods. “Good.”

“We’d have come to the café to tell you all this,” Mikasa says. “But I think it’s almost better this way. You must have been busy like mad with all the rumours flying around. I take it Historia being in town hardly made it any better.”

Levi snorts. “That’s a way to put it.” The cake display was emptied by two o’clock in the afternoon today, and clean china was in constant shortage, even with his generously over-stocked inventory.

“We’ll come by again soon though,” Jean says. “As soon as the stream has subsided a bit.”

“I miss your apple tart,” Mikasa adds with an almost secretive smile, reaching for Jean’s hand for a small brush of knuckles. “And we wanted to talk to you anyway.”

Smiling at them, Levi nods. “Do that. Give word to Tom, and I’ll make sure to save you some cake.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Have fun with Colonel Idiot,” Jean says with a grin and a jerking chin towards the coffee flasks in Levi’s grip. “It’s fucking good to have at least someone who can give him a little panic attack by walking into the room. For what it’s worth.”

“I’ll do my best,” Levi says. “Have a good evening you two.” He touches Mikasa’s arm in wordless thanks, and continues to Hanji’s office, stopping in front of the entrance to listen. 

As expected, the hateful words coming from inside are shrill. 

“We shouldn’t let him leave HQ in the middle of these negotiations. Especially not to go to a place where he consorts with gutter scum every damn night! He should at least be gated during the next few days.”

Of all the hysteric people Levi has met throughout his life, Claudio is right on top of the list. His agitation both sends Levi’s heart pounding with unadulterated disgust and causes an anticipatory rush to spread through his body faster. 

“As we already agreed on, he’s a free man, Colonel,” Hanji’s voices answers. “We drafted up the licence for him to live at Levi’s today, as far as I remember, so that’s where he should be. Or do you want to arrest Eren and scare our people for no real reason? Are you really going to be contemptuous of our Queen’s will, with her sitting here no less?”

“I am not being contemptuous of her Majesty’s will by stating the need to ensure the public’s safety. If he’s ill, he needs to remain at headquarters where he can be monitored around the clock.”

“Her Highness thanked him this morning for his ongoing loyalty and service to our people. I also want to remind you of Supreme Commander Zackley’s decree about Eren during his critical days…”

Levi smiles as she chatters on. Sounds like Hanji’s still got it.

Giving himself one assertive lookover, Levi tugs his coat into place, puts on his aloof thug face, and raps sharply on the door. Time to give someone a few well-deserved bad dreams. 

“Coffee delivery for Commander Zoe,” he calls through the door.

The voices from the other side fall silent. Levi can almost picture it. Claudio irritated at the irregular interruption. Eren looking at Hanji in surprise, Hanji’s increasingly joyful expression while she waits for the exact right moment to answer Levi’s knock. Historia probably not batting an eye. Erika trying to suppress a chuckle.

Someone must have given a wordless order since the door opens before Levi without a spoken allowance to enter. The first thing he sees is a glimpse of Hanji’s elated grin. The second is a royal uniform decorating a bouncer stare so second nature to the man before him Levi can’t suppress his instinctive reaction to glare right back. A royal guard, no doubt. Reminding himself he’s not here to offend the crown, Levi shakes his head and ignores the man, striding past him through the entrance. 

He pretends to not notice the panicked gasp coming from his right as he crosses the room, eyes fixed on Hanji who beams at him as though he’s the best thing she’s ever seen. He can sense Eren’s unshared attention on him as he passes, and brushes his wrist with his left hand in a soothing gesture before coming to a halt in front of Hanji’s desk. 

“I brought you your pre-ordered evening coffee, Commander.” He places the delivery onto a small free space on the cluttered tabletop, hoping she’ll play along. 

She does. Of course, she does. It’s Hanji. 

“Perfect!” she cheers, holding his gaze with bright eyes. “Right on time, as always. I think you remember Colonel Claudio?” Her hand performs a motion towards Levi’s right. 

Giving Hanji the tiniest of smirks before locking it away, Levi turns to face the noble swine whose disbelief-heavy gasping hasn’t stopped yet. “Oh. That’s a surprise. Good to see you, Colonel. How’s the wife?”

“What…How…” Red-heated anger shoots into Claudio’s face, clashing with his thinning blond hair and fury-quivering moustache. “What are you doing in this building? This is a military base! Don’t you have any shame?”

“As I said, I’m delivering Commander Hanji her coffee. She prefers it strong. Makes her think better.”

“So true,” Hanji enthuses. Going by the sounds at Levi’s back, she’s already pouring some into her mug. “Do you want some, Your Highness, Colonel? I ordered two flasks this evening.”

“Sounds divine, Commander,” Historia replies. 

“Count me in too,” Erika’s tired voice follows.

“This goes against all military regulations!” Claudio bellows, eyes flitting across the room. “A Military Headquarter is no place for a civilian.”

Levi stares back. “I’m not here as a civilian. Furthermore, I have to make Hanji’s deliveries myself when Eren isn’t waiting for me at the gate. The curse of a small one man business. Hanji requested I bring the Penmen Squad quality coffee whenever they know they’ll be working late.” 

Giving his best to blink as little as possible, Levi remains still, waiting for Claudio to lose his nerve all by himself. 

“How…how did you know I’ve got a wife?”

Still not moving, Levi allows a slow smile to spread across his face. “The uptake to not being a soldier anymore is running a busy café. People tell lots of things when they’re drinking a damn good cup of tea, Colonel. Interesting stuff. Where they’ll sleep at night, what their worries are. Not all people are happy all the time.”

“How…”

“Speaking of which, Levi,” Hanji interjects in unrelenting support, “I think Eren would be very happy to accompany you back home. We’re done for the day anyway, and it’s almost dinner time. Unless you have any objections, Queen Historia.”

“No, not at all,” Historia says. “Thank you, Instructor Eren. You don’t have to call in tomorrow morning. But we’d like to see you in the evening again for a standard check-in. We’ll adjourn these negotiations for dinner.”

“Understood.” Eren sounds as though he’s biting back a chuckle. “Thank you, your Highness.”

Letting Claudio off the hook, Levi turns to Eren. “You ready to go?”

His smile is breathtaking, deep dimples, bright green eyes, and hair a gorgeous mess as if he’s been outside, flying through the woods. He looks at Levi as if they were the only people in the world, swallowing before giving a hasty nod. “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good.” Levi steps closer, looks him deep in the eyes and sees Eren understands just in time what he’s about to do when Levi already pulls him down in a deliberately deep and almost sloppy kiss. Fingers diving into Eren’s hair, Levi coaxes a gasp out of Eren with another thrust of his tongue, struggling against the powerful pull Eren’s ardent responsiveness always seems to have on him. They can fuck later. Right now, they’ve got a statement to make. 

Levi drags it out, ensuring it’s long enough to give Claudio an aneurysm yet not long enough to let the idiot find his voice. He pulls back, gives Eren a praising brush of his thumb across his waistline, and takes him by the hand, squeezing when Eren lets his lips steam. “Let’s go. Dinner’s waiting.”

He looks around in the room to nod at its occupants. Erika smirks at him with a wink from behind the makeshift desk in the corner. Historia is still looking as though nothing has happened, Hanji beams like a madman, and Claudio is still gasping with a face white as a sheet. Levi grants Hanji’s mouthed _ wow! _ a small shrug, and then he tugs Eren along out of the office, taking his sweet time as they walk. 

“See you soon, Commander,” he says. “Remind someone to bring me the flasks in the morning so I can get your evening coffee here on time.” Then he closes the door behind them. Eren’s palm a source of comforting warmth against his. 

Eren manages to hold on for about a dozen steps down the corridor before he stops and bursts into quiet yet eye-watering laughter. “I can’t believe you did this,” he wheezes. “Did you see his face?”

Smirking, Levi hums. Not only did he see it. It turned out to be even more satisfying than what he’d hoped to achieve. “Thought I’d make sure he remembers me,” he says, looking Eren up and down, scanning him for indications of harm. “You all right today?”

“Well, I definitely am now,” Eren snorts, still shaken by tiny bursts of spirited laughter that’s like sunshine to Levi’s ears. “That was fucking hot.”

Their eyes meet, and Levi’s heart leaps into freefall at the burning tenderness he finds directed at him. Despite his intentions to make sure Eren will not overextend himself, he feels it too. A flaring churn, cheered on by the success of his little outing and by the increasing tension of the past days he has to release. He will spoil this man tonight. Soak himself with Eren’s gorgeous smile and his taste. Hear his laughter from up close and kiss it right out of his wonderful mouth. Make sure Eren feels good and loved whilst enjoying every single second of it. 

“Well then.” He squeezes Eren’s hand in his, thumb drawing promising circles on Eren’s index finger and feeling his body respond when Eren reciprocates the gesture. “Let’s get you home first, shall we?”

 

*

 

If Eren’s eyes were sparkling on their way home, they downright glisten when Levi reveals to him what Evelyn brought them for dinner after stepping into their flat. 

Eren’s verve at the news even casts out any pressing urges of trying to pin Levi against the first best wall he can find. Levi bites back a fond sigh and nudges Eren away from peppering nibbling wet kisses down his throat. 

“Come on,” he says. “Dinner first.”

Eren sighs, leaving one last kiss against Levi’s jaw. “All right.” Though his unenthusiastic restraint lasts throughout their walk through the corridor, it crackles when Eren’s gaze lands on the fur waiting for him on his side on the kitchen table.

“Another surprise?” he asks. 

“Arne brought it,” Levi explains, watching Eren approach it with curious steps. 

“For us both? That’s nice.”

“Mm,” Levi says, unease tingling in his guts as his feet bring him to a standstill at Eren’s side. 

He didn’t want to make a big thing out of this moment, yet when he went to fetch his coat before picking Eren up, his eyes landed on the bundle beneath his countertop. The thought of seeing Eren smile at it after a stressful day filled him with a pleasant thrill in the pit of his stomach until his arms prickled at the thought. So he took it alongside Evelyn’s pie and brought it upstairs. After considering it for a moment, he placed the parcel where Eren wouldn’t be able to overlook it whilst saving Levi from having to hand it over and perhaps lose his nerve, say some sappy shit or come off as crude. Eren would brush his hands over it, smile, and then they’d have dinner with Levi basking in Eren’s gratitude.

What he didn’t count in was the moment of Eren spotting it. Nor Eren assuming it could not be a gift, not for him alone if he wants it to be his. The newness of it all makes Levi feel like he is on tenterhooks. 

It’s one thing to give Eren what he needs on a physical level. Food. A bed to sleep in. Security and protection. Contact in form of touches and sex. It’s easy. He’s good at it. Gifts to a loved one, however. Levi is so new to them and their emotional impact. So new to presenting a partner with some luxury and having to say:  _ For you. It made me think of you. I had it for a day now, but wanted to see your face when you receive it, untinged by pain. Take it. It’s yours.  _

The unspoken sentences swirl around in Levi’s body, wanting to press out, yet they sound so clumsy in his head. Inapt and bulky. Too dingy and fair alike. They choke him and yank at his insides, making his hands sweat, and Levi feels so silly.

How is it that they’ve known each other for over six years, and Levi still doesn’t know how to express himself to Eren with words? How to behave in certain fragile moments. How not to feel the subliminal suspicion Eren’s reaction to his advances will shatter him to pieces. It feels like worms squirming beneath his skin. Like he will be sick any moment. Like his chest is about to pop.

In an attempt to fend off his own awkwardness, Levi scowls and wills himself to talk. “I thought for your chair.” His own voice sounds wrong, breathless and uneasy, yet Eren doesn’t seem to notice. 

His green, widened eyes find Levi’s with utter disbelief, one hand already reaching out for the small bundle. “This is for me? From you?” The immersed incredulity tingles on Levi’s nape, makes him hyper-aware of Eren’s heat beside him, of his scent. Of Eren’s hair falling into his face. 

Ordering his lungs to calm down, Levi feigns interest in the neatly folded parcel. “If you like it.” He folds his arms to keep himself from scratching his brow and swallows. “The shoulders’ been nicked.”

“If I like it…” Eren has already untied the robust twine with impatient long fingers and shakes the fur out, placing it back onto the table to run an unsteady palm over the fur. “Fawn…” he mumbles, shaking his head with a spreading smile that sneaks around Levi’s heart to lift it up his throat. “So pretty.” 

Time seems to stop for a moment, and then rushes back in with increased speed. 

One moment Eren gapes at his gift with fingers brushing over the brown and cream-coloured bristles, the next he crashes against Levi and kisses him so deeply as if Levi was his source of life. The unexpected vigour knocks the air out of Levi, sending him a few steps back with a hissed “shit.” 

Urging even closer with one leg trying to wrap around Levi, Eren makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, and it’s clear dinner must wait. 

Struggling against the force of over-excited Eren trying to devour him with everything he’s got—hands, arms, mouth, voice, everything—, Levi catches Eren’s tongue between his teeth, tightening his grip on Eren’s waist. 

Eren whimpers, shudders against him, hips jerking forward, and Levi lets him go. Performing a slowing thrust of his tongue into Eren’s mouth as he manoeuvres them both towards the bedroom. He wants Eren sprawled out on white sheets.

Their knees knock against each other on the stumbling way, making Eren chuckle and smile, filling Levi’s lungs with his breath, his heat, his spirit. Levi’s heart aches, needing more, so much more, and his hands hasten to strip Eren of his harness, one strap after the other, before Levi can free him of his shirt. 

They somehow manage to topple onto the bed like this, Eren wrapping himself tighter around Levi. His mouth assaulting Levi’s lips, fingers scrabbling on anything they can hold on to. It’s like fighting with a wild beast. 

Delicious goosebumps rise against Levi’s fingertips. Eren’s ribs expanding under heavy pants that now hitch when Levi rakes his nails over them and form into “please, oh, fuck me, I need you so much. Levi, oh!” recited into his neck. 

Eren manages to hook his legs around Levi’s and flips them over, pressing down and attacking Levi’s throat.

“Mark me,” Eren gasps next, licking over Levi’s ear before nibbling on his shell with sharp yet tender teeth, hot breath puffing over the sensitised skin. 

Levi rolls them back and looks down on him. His nipples are hard and dark, his body shaking. Desperate words are streaming from his debauched lips and into Levi’s soul in a ceaseless caress as frenzied hands tear on his shirt. “Why won’t come off? I don’t want to tear it. Need to feel you. You’re too far away.”

“Eren, fuck.” Levi helps with his shirt. “Use the buttons, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yes!” 

Eren whimpers, hands glueing themselves to Levi’s skin, skating up and down his ribs and leaving heated trails while Levi shrugs out of his sleeves, tossing the item away. He doesn’t care where it lands, thriving in Eren’s enraptured looks, his movements, his touches all over his back and chest. His hair is a nimbus of unruly strands, his eyes blackened with lust, and his hips push up in a frantic search for friction they don’t find. 

Levi wants the passion, aches for it, yet with Eren’s state only yesterday, he’s the one who’ll do the work tonight, and Eren needs to understand this. Hence Levi applies a bit more strength to his kisses, allows his body to go heavy on top of the wriggling needy mess of limbs beneath him. Catching Eren’s wrists, he presses them into the mattress beside his head, thumbs stroking Eren’s pulse points, feeling for his heartbeat. 

“Eren, slow down.”

Another shudder rushes down Eren’s body, vibrating through Levi as well before Eren throws his head back, releasing a frustrated groan. Levi seizes the invitation, licks a slow, wet trail up Eren’s throat and neck before he settles for a spot behind his ear. “Let me take care of you,” he says, beginning to suck.

“Fuck!” The drawn-out cry almost sounds like a sob. 

Eren’s arms struggle against Levi’s grip, his hands twisting to tear on the linens as his back arches up into a perfect bow. Adam’s apple bobbing in his taut throat at another choked plea. Feet scrabbling on the sheets in their attempt to lift them both off the mattress. His entire body succumbing, entrusting itself to Levi. Begging him to do whatever he wants. 

Before there was Eren, Levi never thought beauty could be so fierce that it breaks a person. It’s almost as violent as in that very first night two years ago, plucking on Levi’s heart until it singes all over. On his skin, his nerves. Lovingly slicing his guts, laying him bare. 

“Levi, please. Oh, please…” The soft cry streams from Eren’s bruised lips, and Levi leans down. 

“Relax,” he whispers into Eren’s ear. If he continues to writhe like this, Levi will hurt him. “Come on.” Easing the pressure on Eren’s wrists, he guides them around his neck. “Hold on.”

It seems to help. Eren clings on to him at once, finding Levi’s mouth and tongue with his own, not minding a painful click of their teeth in his eagerness. Levi frowns at the dull discomfort yet shoves it aside, letting Eren continue attacking his mouth as he strips them of the rest of their clothing. His fingers are quick to find the bottle of oil, slipping on the glass in their unsteady haste when Eren’s tongue urges against his. Swallowing each and every single one of Eren’s gasps and pleas, Levi revels in his taste, taking as much time as he can to prepare him.

“More. I don’t care if it hurts, please, ah! Oh, fuck, right there! Yes, oh yes!”

Eren’s hand sneaks in between them to wrap around Levi’s cock with a confident pull, and Levi grunts, his movements becoming impatient against his will. Soon, Eren isn’t even kissing him anymore, just panting into Levi’s face with expressive, sex-crazed eyes losing their focus, telling Levi he’s close. 

Screw it, he thinks. It must be enough. Levi retrieves his fingers, covers himself with more oil, and aligns himself. Holding up the eye contact, he slowly pushes in, instantly overwhelmed by the welcoming heat enveloping him, by Eren’s delighted sounds breaking free from his throat in a litany of “yes, yes,  _ yes _ !”

Gritting his teeth to stay composed, Levi digs his fingers deeper into Eren’s hips to hold him as still as possible, pushing onward, onward, onward. Deeper into the tight, incredible surroundedness and close-close-closer towards that glorious, fulfilling place within Eren he’ll never ever reach.

Eren’s hands keep working on his neck, alternating between diving into his hair to pull tight and easing the sting, only to start from anew. He’s started to sweat, with the thin film glistening on his skin in enticing, slippery drops as Levi retreats to slowly slide back in, drawing a blissful groan from them both. 

“Eren,” Levi says when his green eyes roll back and flutter shut, head dropping sideways into the pillow, mouth falling open in a blissful smile to rejoice a final voiceless “yes!” a second before his cock twitches and sends scalding white spurts against Levi’s throat and chest.

Letting go of his hair, Eren’s fingers clasp around Levi’s arse, blunt nails demanding him in even deeper, and Levi obeys, eyes fixed on Eren’s jerking body beneath him. He pushes further, thrusts once more, and loses himself in arms pulling him close into a warm, sticky, Eren-scented embrace. 

A wonderful heartbeat drums a powerful rhythm against his ear. Kind fingers trace tender lines up his spine. Levi closes his eyes.

Eren is home.

 

*

 

“Thank you,” Eren mumbles when they stand in the bathroom, cleaning themselves up. He stands behind Levi, his naked front pressing against Levi’s back and arse, arms snaking around his waist. Eyes looking at him in the bathroom mirror.  

Drying his chest with a towel, Levi smirks. “What for? The sex?” 

“No,” Eren says, his fingers stilling in their caress on Levi’s belly for a second as he smiles. “Well, yes, but it’s not what I meant.” He rests his chin on the top of Levi’s head, dimples deepening and mouth pressing a kiss into his hair. “For everything. The fur. The dinner. My second lunch. Scaring that arsehole and actually making him speechless.”

“The dinner we didn’t even have yet is from Evelyn, and the fur is from Arne,” Levi reminds him, resting his head back against Eren’s sternum, looking up to meet his sparkling eyes in the mirror.

Eren shrugs as good as he can with his arms wrapped around Levi. His fingers play with the hairs under Levi’s navel. “You’re still amazing.”

Levi swallows. As usual, Eren’s praise coupled with his ongoing caresses stirs something within himself that hurts and demands him to hide. Eren doesn’t often say things like that, yet when he does, Levi wants to force the words back into Eren’s mouth and make him keep them inside. 

He knows Eren finds true what he said. Yet it feels false, false and foreboding. Like Eren found that old gash within Levi he locked away to guard above all else ever since he can remember. More even, Eren seems to ease its surrounding armour open without effort. Instead of running away at what he sees, he smiles. Nestling down around the ache to apply healing balm and gentle touches. He even shields Levi’s back, naked skin against naked skin. Although Levi thinks he should feel mortified at letting someone this close, all he can do is sink in deeper and deeper in return. No matter how scary it is.

Fighting against the mixture of emotions as he looks into honest eyes, Levi scowls and disentangles himself. In an instant, cold envelops his back without Eren’s heat pressing up against him. His bare feet have long gotten cold on the tiled floor too. “Okay, time for some clothes and strengthening food. You’re already talking nonsense.”

“Wait,” Eren says, a blush glowing on his face and chest. His Adam’s apple moves under a heavy gulp, as his hand moves forward to hold Levi back. “You didn’t give me any new love bites yet.”

His voice is crestfallen in the echoing bathroom and so whimsical at the same time that Levi frowns, able to see Eren’s pout without having to look. He doesn’t mind giving them, not with Eren’s enthusiastic appreciation of them. Despite him begging for them a few minutes ago, Eren’s fervent ardour cast their essentiality to Levi completely aside in comparison to giving Eren what he needed first and foremost. Eren bringing them up for a second time though raises the curiosity if this goes beyond a simple desire. 

“Are they so important to you?” Levi asks.

Eren shrugs again, pulls his swollen bottom lip between his teeth and for once this evening avoids Levi’s gaze. 

“It feels lonely with them gone,” he mumbles eventually. “I guess it’s silly. But it was like you were there with me, wherever I was.” 

Eren pauses before adding with a rasped whisper, “I like it.”

Swallowing at another pang in his heart, Levi turns to look at him, stark naked in their oil lamp lit bathroom. His hair frames his face in soft luring waves. His eyes are vulnerable and kind, his hands a source of warm comfort, and it dawns on Levi he won’t ever be able to say no to him. Whatever Eren asks for, it will be his. The most terrifying part of it all is that Levi doesn’t feel the need to run from it. On the contrary. He wants to lean in and bask it in, despite his instincts screaming it’s too good. Too stupendous to be real. And yet it all comes down to the question of whether he is willing to mark Eren with a love bite or leave him devastated. The choice is easy. Better make it good too.

“All right,” he says, blinded by Eren’s instant smile and his fingers reaching for Levi’s waist, pulling him nearer than he already is. 

Eren’s cock twitches against Levi’s belly with enthusiastic interest, and Levi smirks. Over-eager brat. 

“One before dinner,” he sets before Eren thinks he can try anything more. “Where do you want it?”


	11. Penalty

Restored by plenty of food, sleep, and sex, Eren lopes into HQ on Wednesday morning, feeling as good as new. Even the pair of Military Policemen passing him on his way to Hanji’s office leave him unfazed, aside from the irresistible urge to smile at them.  

“Hello, Sirs,” he greets them, striding on and basking in the whispers following his way. He can’t really tell whether his change of mood comes from the three new love bites adorning his neck, the memory of Levi glaring at Claudio, or something else. Yet he feels strengthened and looks forward to a day with his Trainees.

First of all, he’s got a delivery to make, and a message to transmit.

“Come in, Eren,” Hanji calls after his knock, and he enters. 

“Good morning.” 

They’re already set up for work. Erika sitting at her makeshift desk, filling up a pen with a wide yawn and dark smudges beneath her eyes. Historia occupying Hanji’s Commander chair, looking neat as ever, and Hanji is next to her in a seat that looks like someone brought it from the mess hall. A stack of paperwork rests before her, and she beams at Eren as he closes the door behind him. Claudio is nowhere to be seen yet, a circumstance that makes Eren take a deep breath of relief though he doubts even he could ruin his mood today. 

“I brought you your breakfast, Commander,” he announces, handing over one of the two parcels Levi pushed into his hands before Eren left the café. 

“Coffee!” Hanji cheers before cackling so hard she has to hold her stomach. “Oh, Eren. Please tell Levi we owe him for that show yesterday! It was brilliant.” 

Whereas Historia answers Eren’s smile with nothing further than a little hum, Erika bursts into full-throated laughter. “Oh, wow, I tell you. He was amazing. I hope you reciprocated nicely, Eren, since damn! He really deserves it. Did you see Claudio’s face? I never saw something this wonderful before. Ever!” Another snort cuts off her words and she wipes her eyes. “That kiss!” she wheezes, one hand smashing onto her table so hard her writing equipment rattles. “You must have some nice sex, you two, especially going by these love bites you have there.” 

Ignoring the heat rushing up his arms and neck as he turns to Hanji, Eren clears his throat. “He says thanks for playing along. And he’ll come over again soon.” 

Whereas Erika laughs again, Hanji beams. “Wonderful! I had a feeling.” 

Grinning, Eren gestures at the bag on her desk. “Remember to eat your breakfast, Commander. There’s also an additional flask with tea for you, Historia, and another one with coffee for Erika.”

Erika’s booming laugh ends in a groan. “Oh fuck! I swear you and Levi are a gift from Heaven, Eren.” Pushing her chair back with a shriek of wood against wood, she dashes forward to fill a cup with a portion of the steaming brew. “Tell him his delivery helped me through the night, will you? Or maybe I can tell him myself later.” She winks at Eren, who chuckles. 

After deciding the intimidation would work better with a day of rest for Claudio, Levi won’t come to pick Eren up today. Not unless Claudio decides to keep Eren here for too long, of course, but no one needs to know about Levi’s plans. 

“How are you feeling today, Eren?” Hanji asks, already busy with her second cup of coffee while Historia blows over her tea, once more trying and failing to blend with the room.

“Much better, thank you.” The headaches that plagued him since Monday finally have subsided, and though Eren can feel the serum’s December dose wearing off, the fatigue stopped gnawing at his bones and skull.

Hanji smiles. “I’m glad. Has Levi mentioned any trouble at the Sparrow?”

Eren shakes his head. “No, but it’s been busy, apparently.”

“Any news on the wedding topic?” Historia asks in an almost absent-minded voice that sounds too sweet again. 

Balling his fists with a straightening back, Eren holds her sharp gaze. “No. And we prefer it that way for now. But thank you for your concern, your Highness.”

“Oh, Eren, you’re funny,” Hanji laughs. “We will talk about that later. We still have to draw up that official allowance anyway. Though today it’s probably best to poke your and Armin’s end of the month special treatment. It will rile Claudio up really good. I think I’ll even send Tom for an order to Levi for extra treats. Perhaps some chocolate cake, ladies?” She glances around, fingers twiddling with a pen. “It’s on me.”

“Mm,” says Historia.

“Count me in,” Erika says, emerging from her own cup of coffee with a refreshed spark in her eyes. “And don’t worry about our Commander, Eren. We’ll make sure she eats her breakfast.”

Crossing his fingers he’s escaped the marriage decree, at least for now, Eren thanks them, smiles, and leaves. His own bundle of second lunch, various snacks, and tea slung over his shoulder. As grateful as he is for Historia’s help with the Claudio situation, Eren has a feeling he’ll be glad when she leaves and takes her annoying persistence with her. 

Not that he can escape the topic altogether. 

“How did the grand proposal go last night?” Connie asks when they meet in the courtyard. “Overcome your horrible shyness? Did Fabian’s blow job idea work? Or was it Sara’s candlelight dinner with long, lingering looks and some tender kisses?” He flutters with his eyelashes as he alters his voice. “I love you, Captain Levi! You make my soul so mushy gushy.”

“Good morning to you too,” Eren says, shoving a handful of frozen, crumbling snow into Connie’s laughing face, unable to hold back a chuckle. At least his comrades seem to be at his side in their attempts to not make a big deal out of the rumours, or treat him any different. “Tell me how those tips work with Sasha when you pluck up your courage, won’t you?”

Connie snorts, shaking the snow out of his blond hair. “Ah, you know how that will go. I’ll ask her if she wants someone to provide her with food for the rest of our days, and I’ll have a problem with ever getting rid of her again. We want to wait anyway. But don’t change the subject. After yesterday, it would be a miracle if you’re not engaged.” His eyes twinkle. “From what I heard, of course. Apparently, there was some steamy snogging involved.”

Eren grins. “Jealous?” He pokes out his tongue when Connie gives him a little push.

“As if!” Connie retorts. “For your information, Sasha is wild. Last night–”

“As happy as I am for you,” Eren hurries to interrupt him, “I don’t want to hear about it, thanks.”

Connie laughs. “So he really picked you up here at HQ, huh?” he asks as they head towards the stables. “Must have been a sight going by the Colonel’s look at dinner yesterday. Scared out of his mind. Flinched at every sound. Looked really angry too, red face and all. Still looked sour at breakfast earlier. As if someone kicked him in the groin. Jean said he’d be surprised if Claudio didn’t try any new ploys today. That little dispute yesterday before noon apparently was to rile up some of our guys.”

“Mm,” Eren says. He’s got a feeling too. “Better keep your eyes open.”

Claudio would want to retaliate somehow and push his efforts to find loopholes and prepare his own surprises. Even with being cooped up in Hanji’s office for most of the day, his men have liberty of action, and Eren has yet to see the day in which the capital’s Military Police will remember its honour and moral code. The thought alone makes him ball his fists.

“We’ve got your back,” Connie says. 

“I know.” Eren sighs and feels himself relax when the stable welcomes them with the familiar warmth consisting of hay, horse, leather, and the chatter of students. “Thank you, Con.”

“So, you’re fit for training today?” Connie asks. “The offer to take over some classes still stands.”

Eren opens his mouth to decline the offer but is cut off by Rita’s voice. “Instructor Eren!” she booms, leading her black stallion out of his stall. “Hold him for a moment, will you.” She shoves the reins into Derek’s hands who stands close by. 

“I’m not doing your work for you,” he says with a sigh, yet Rita ignores him, already running towards Eren. 

“How could you not tell us Captain Levi would come here yesterday?” She looks up at Eren, her arms akimbo, her dark eyes burning with indignation and enthusiasm alike. 

“Good luck with that, dude.” Connie chuckles, leaving towards his own horse with a slap on Eren’s back. 

Shoving Connie away in return, Eren smiles before he tends to his most tenacious Trainee. “Hello, Rita.”

She scowls up at him for a moment longer, and then a beam spreads across her face. “It’s not fair we didn’t get to see him. You know that, don’t you?”

Eren nods, trying to keep his expression serious as more and more Trainees gather around them to join in Rita’s probing. “I wish I could have seen him, Instructor Eren.” “Did he really give Colonel Claudio a scare? Captain Levi is so brave!” “Are you and him engaged by now? Did my tip with you kneeling down work?” “Are you feeling better today, Instructor Eren, Sir?”

Sighing, Eren lets them all go on for a few seconds before he lifts his hands to make them stop. “What did we agree on yesterday?”

Around him, half a dozen pairs of shoulders fall under sighed protests, pouts and horse snuffles. 

“Training first, questions after,” Rita says, shooting Mia a smile before she looks up at Eren again. “But this is important.”

“As is your education, don’t you think?” Eren retorts, nodding his approval at Derek when he shoves Rita’s reins back into her hands. 

“It’s not fair,” she protests again. “You know it.”

Biting back a fond grin at Rita’s failed attempt of a glare, Eren raises his voice and folds his arms. “All right, that’s enough. Everyone out except Rita. Instructor Connie will be with you in a moment.” 

Rita grimaces, yet obeys as they wait for her comrades to leave the stables with their horses. Eren smiles at Mia’s worried frown as she passes and gestures her it’s all right. 

When the last Trainee is out of the door, yet the noise of clicking boots and hooves still drown out most sounds, Eren holds Rita by her shoulder and lowers his voice. “You, Harold and Mia can check on the gates the next few evenings after classes.” 

Her grin is so wide Eren wonders how her face doesn’t split apart. “You’re a good guy, Instructor Eren.”

Eren snorts and lets go of her shoulder with a pat. “Thanks. And you’re a nuisance.”

“I know. Sorry for going too far again. The regular two-page essay on it?” 

Regarding the untamable thirteen-year-old before him, Eren is hit with a sudden déjà vu. Admitted, her eyes are dark, and her appearance doesn’t quite fit either, but the dressed-down look in Rita’s eyes is all Mikasa whenever she realised she stepped over a line in their early Special Operation Squad days. 

Levi was never overly strict as far as general rules went, but willful disobedience and certain patronising comments were issues he reacted to with consistent punishments. By the end of her first year under Levi’s command, Mikasa didn’t even ask about the required length anymore, and would hand Levi over the essay at breakfast. Aside from a lifted eyebrow behind a cup of tea on Levi’s side and a restrained roll of her eyes on Mikasa’s, the procedure would pass without a single word spoken. 

Though it never much felt like punishment, Eren more often than not got cleaning assignments to “get his temper back under control.” A coping method that somehow stuck so hard, Levi didn’t have to say anything about that after a while either. A mere look on Levi’s face was enough for Eren to fetch the cleaning supplies, knowing exactly what his slip cost him this time. Cleaning the classroom, stables, bathroom, toilets, or dorms. For an afternoon, two days, or an entire week. He even did voluntary overtime; it always seemed to make Levi smile and indeed helped with Eren’s temper fits on top of that. Admitted, that Levi joined him every now and then might have been an effective motivation too. 

Connie always got repair work around HQ, Armin extra training hours, and Jean and Sasha most often ended up with kitchen duty. Careful as they had to be with her food stealing tendencies, Sasha cooked too well to let that talent go to waste, and Jean, shit as he was at cleaning, made the best omelettes. All solutions everyone benefited from in the end, most of all Levi. He often muttered he wished them the same subordinate brats as they were if they were lucky to live that long. 

Seems like his wish came true Eren muses as he looks at the little bugger standing before him now.

“You know the routine, Rita,” he says, retaining a nostalgic chuckle.  

She sighs but shrugs. “Worth it. Anyway.” Her head tilts to a side as she looks him up and down, not minding her horse puffing into her ear. “You look better today. Did the protein bar help?”

“Yes, it did,” Eren replies. He noshed it between afternoon classes the day before and cherished every crumb. “And I am feeling better, thank you.”

“Good.” She smiles. “If you need anything, you can tell us. We have more bars in the backhand too. Just like we said. We’ll do everything we can to help.”

“In moderation, Rita,” Eren reminds her as Harold rounds the corner at her back, his groomed gelding in tow. 

She looks up at Eren, her widened eyes almost a bit too innocent. “But of course. We promised. Plus, I won’t tell anyone.” She catches his suspicious look and sighs. “Except Mia and Harold, but you knew that already.”

“Hello Instructor Eren. You look better today. I’m glad,” Harold says. “Is this about Captain Levi?”

Eren smiles. “Thank you, Harold. I am feeling better.”

Rita grants Eren one more grin and boxes his arm. Then she turns to her friend. “Come on, Harold. We’ve got very important things to discuss.” They leave the stables with eager steps, both flanked by their horses, heads close together as they walk. 

Shaking his head at the two of them, Eren snorts, remembers his duty as an Instructor, and fetches his horse. 

 

*

 

The rest of the day passes in blissful routine. Or at least what one could call routine, regarding the hostile air provided by Claudio’s men and their continuing efforts to upset everyone in the community, HQ included. 

Though Levi’s surprise visit the night before has coerced the Colonel into momentary defeat, the looks he throws Eren across the mess hall during lunch are even more sanguinary than ever. Eren waves at him with a smile, and returns to his ignoring tactic. He doesn’t want to push it too far. 

Lunch, once more, is followed by a brief nap in his office and a second lunch—the small remains of Evelyn’s heavenly pie, some pre-cracked nuts, an apple, and lukewarm Gunpowder that makes Eren think of Levi. The slim finger of chocolate he stores away. Just in case.

Afternoon classes start with the new found amount of questions regarding his non-existing proposal to Levi, yet the first-years’ enthusiasm doesn’t reach the second-years’ zeal by lengths. Eren hopes it will only be a day or so until it stagnates and stops altogether. 

“Lessons first, answers later,” he says for what feels like the thousandth time, and chuckles at the crestfallen looks as the class scurry off to their positions in the gym. When Anna passes him with a smile, he grins back though jerks out of his thoughts when Connie’s voice booms through the room.

“No shoving, Phillip!” he orders. 

“He started it!” Phillip complains, pointing at Ian. 

“Did not!” Ian protests, anger reddening his face. 

“Uh-huh!” 

“Nu-uh!”

“Stop it!” Connie shouts, approaching them while Eren stays where he is, keeping an eye on the others who watch the racket in their midst. 

“It doesn’t matter who started it or not,” Connie continues. “This is class, and you’ve got exercises to go through.” He reaches them and nudges Ian into the direction of the gym’s other side. “So why don’t you two take your places far away from each other today, huh? That’s right.” Sighing as Ian obeys with one last grimace, Connie scratches his brow with a shake of his head while he retreats to his position beside Eren. 

“Seems they can’t stop, huh?” Eren asks, keeping his voice low. 

“Seems so. Feels like it’s getting worse too. Oi, Lennard!” Connie interrupts himself. “I know these pants are tight but that doesn’t mean you should ogle your comrades during training.” He shakes his head again with another sigh. “If that boy doesn’t play on both sides, Sasha will skip dinner tonight.”

Eren snorts, suddenly reminded of a conversation a week ago. “Now I know what Levi meant with us better having an eye on him.”

Connie frowns. “Levi said Lennard is bi and over-sexed?”

“No.” Eren chuckles. “He said Lennard is trouble. Never thought he meant like this though.” He regards Lennard who seems immersed in his sit-ups now, and frowns. “How did he know?”

When Connie doesn’t reply, Eren turns his head to look at him and is met by two lifted eyebrows adorning an almost quizzical gaze. “What?” Eren asks. 

“You’re cute sometimes. You know that?” 

Feeling hot at Connie’s carefree expression, Eren huffs a brief laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He folds his arms. 

Connie grins and lets him off the hook with a shrug. “Think about it. Oi! Lennard! What did I just say? Don’t make me give you detention.”

Which reminds Eren. “Have you heard about Rita, Harold, and Mia cutting a caper these days? Aside from the usual, I mean.”

“Mm…” Connie says with a ponderous tone. “Should we? And what’s the usual anyway? From what I’ve seen so far they’re harmless aside from Harold’s tendencies to injure himself.”

“I don’t know,” Eren admits. “They promised to keep out of that Colonel Claudio issue, but I’ve got a bad feeling they’re up to something.” 

“They’ll be all right,” Connie replies after a pause. At seeing Eren’s incredulous glance, he shrugs. “We have an eye on them. I haven’t heard anything that’s worth worrying about.”

Eren frowns at the convincing tone. He likes this less and less. However, he’s yet to see the day Connie will be able to keep a secret from anyone in their group. Plus Rita won’t incite her friends to anything that will get them into trouble. So he brushes it off for now, and focuses back on his class. Aidan collapsing onto his arse after scarce thirty minutes of training has precedence over some hunch that could be nothing but a false alarm. 

Rita promised to keep out of this after all. Whatever her faults may be, Eren thinks they can all be grateful she sticks to her vows. Colonel Claudio isn’t worth this kind of retaliation anyway. Or so he thinks until he is about to knock at Hanji’s office for his vespertine check-in and is held back by Claudio’s risen voice penetrating the door. 

“I can only repeat myself when I say this is a mistake, Commander!” 

Eren sighs to himself. How do Hanji and the others endure this clamour for days in a row? He hasn’t even entered yet, and already has had enough.

“Spending taxes on special treatment for Titans. It’s ludicrous!”

“Titan  _ shifters _ , Colonel,” Hanji’s voice answers with a patience Eren wishes he had too. “Not Titans. That’s a difference. Should I show you my dictionary again? Do you remember where we put it?”

“I don’t bloody care about definitions!” A thud follows, and Eren lifts his brows, holding back a snort. Did Claudio just stomp? “Neither do the citizens.”

“Oh, I think you are mistaken there, Colonel,” Historia says. “According to my investigations, people would be happy to provide us with funds to keep Eren and Armin safe.”

“But what people, my Queen?” Claudio demands, sounding like a child that didn’t get what it wanted. 

A couple of soldiers round the corner to Eren’s left, so he stops his eavesdropping with a straightening back and knocks, more purposeful than usual. 

To his delight, his knock is followed by a little gasp from inside the office, and then Hanji talks. “Ah, that must be Eren. I think it’s already this late. Is everything all right, Colonel? You look a bit green.”

The door opens at her last words, and Eren steps past the royal guard who closes the door behind him. 

“Good evening,” he says with a salute, looking into the round. “Queen Historia. Colonel. Commander. Squad Leader.” 

Whereas Hanji beams and Erika winks at him from her table with an ink stain on her right cheek that wasn’t there this morning, Claudio pales and stares at Eren’s neck. Eren restrains a boastful grin and refrains from feeling for his love bites whilst wondering with a flicker of interest in the pit of his stomach whether Levi would be willing to add a few more tonight.

“Thank you for checking in, Eren,” Historia says, drawing his attention back to the desk. “How was your day?”

“Training went well, your Highness,” Eren replies. “Thank you for asking.”

“I’m glad to hear that. We don’t have much news for you besides the confirmation we started covering your and Armin’s health plan today. We agreed it’s best to ensure your physical and mental well-being.” Historia ignores Claudio’s sniff. “So we compiled a new folder of directive drafts to ensure both the military and you don’t have to worry about overstraining. 

“This includes continued extra ration rights during mealtimes, a new law that you and Armin are provided with enough serum every month to keep you alive, including spare syringes, even should you leave the military for whatever reason, and so on.” Her hands fold on Hanji’s desk that’s loaded with piles of folders and thick stacks of papers. 

“A novelty you also should know about is the permission to take a free day a month,” Historia continues. “You’re allowed to use it during the critical days, provided it doesn’t jeopardise our people’s safety. In your case, your classes will be held by a substitute Instructor or similar means to ensure the Survey Corps’ consistent education and schedule coverage for its Cadets. You can take these days as freely as you’d like, but use them well and strictly for rest and leisure. We’ll draw up a standard form for you to fill out on these days. Should you decide to take a day off before that, say this week, you’ll have to fill it out once they’re finished.”

“Wait, what?” Eren blurts before he remembers the etiquette and salutes with haste. “Sorry, your Highness. But…did you just say I get involuntary leave once a month? Starting now?”

Claudio huffs, yet Hanji already answers before he inhaled enough air to protest. “No, Eren. It’s a day for regulated rest, if you want it. It’s not enforced, not a sick day, and we trust you with your own decision about taking it or not. Still, we’d like to see you use the offer to recharge. Though I must say, I’m glad to see you seem to have your strength back.” She smiles, eyes lingering on Eren’s neck for a second.

“Well…” Eren starts when another sharp knock comes on the door. 

Claudio to Eren’s right tenses up, drawing in a sharp hiss. If he wouldn’t be such an idiot, Eren would almost have pity on him. Almost. 

Historia looks at Eren in a silent question, and if she recognises his negating glance that no, this isn’t Levi, she doesn’t show it. She motions at the guard who opened the door for Eren before, and smiles. 

Tom enters the office with a salute, carrying a big satchel. “Your daily coffee delivery from the Captain, Commander.” 

“Wonderful,” Hanji cheers. “Thank you, Major. Does it include the chocolate cake I asked for?”

“Yes,” Tom says, emptying the bag onto Hanji’s desk while Hanji snatches one of the flasks out of his hands in search of her coffee. “As is the special tea delivery for our Queen and extra coffee for Squad Leader Erika. The Captain said to share with the Colonel, please.”

“What’s this Captain nonsense?” Red heat glows on Claudio’s face. “He’s not Captain anymore! He’s not in the military any longer.” 

“Forgive me, Colonel,” Tom says with a salute. “Captain is a nickname by now. Not a title. And old habits die hard. I’m sure you understand.”

Hanji meanwhile has found her coffee and pours it into the mug on her desk before tossing the liquid down her throat in one go as always. After pouring herself the second mug, she looks at the other items on her desk and whoops. “Whoa! Levi even added some cookies. Colonel, look! It’s one for each of us.”

Smiling an intensely sweet smile, Tom turns to Historia. “The Captain asks if Eren will be home soon, my Queen, or whether he should be worried Eren is unwell. I can escort him home if it helps?”

Eren sighs to himself. They all know he doesn’t need an escort home, though show or not, he wouldn’t put it past the Underground squads to supply him with one nonetheless. 

“Seems that won’t be necessary, Major. But you’re right, we wouldn’t want Levi to worry,” Historia says, smiling at Hanji when she hands her one of the cookies. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re done for the day. Colonel?”

He waves about, face still an unhealthy shade of crimson mingling with blotches of ghastly white. “Yes, yes. He can go.”

“Say thanks to Levi for me, Eren, will you?” Hanji says through a crumbly cookie. “And to Norman too, going by the taste of this.”

“I will, Commander,” Eren says, looking at the round again. “My Queen. Colonel. Squad Leader.” With that he salutes, turns, and leaves for his first normal way home since Friday.

It’s even early. 

 

*

 

When Eren enters the Sparrow fifteen minutes later, it is to a look of utter relief on Levi’s face and an almost empty café. 

The only customers present are a group of five sharing two tables, Rita’s sister and some of her Military Police comrades. Most of their plates are emptied, and their quiet chatter tells of a busy day coming to an end. 

Eren waves at their greetings and perches himself on his new favourite seat at the counter. “Hey.”

Levi hums his hello in return and pours Eren a cup of tea without having to brew it first. 

“Were you waiting for me?” 

Though Levi doesn’t reply, his grey eyes soften. “How’s our highborn?” 

“Scared out of his mind.” Eren grins and takes a sip of his herbal infusion. The effect sets in with a checkless flood of chamomile flavoured warmth settling over him. “Let me leave without even a single complaint today.”

“Good. He’d better.” 

Widening his smile, Eren rests his elbows on the counter. “He nearly pissed his pants at the love bites.”

Amusement lights up Levi’s face. “Should I add some more then?” 

Mind toppling over with fantasies of that, Eren wonders how Levi can say such things with such a calm composure, without the tiniest blush when his own face feels like it’s burning. Levi seems to know what he’s thinking, since he smirks. “You can tell me where you want them later.”

“Them?”

“Mm.” Levi hums, eyes trailing to Eren’s neck. “One before dinner.”

“And after?” The question is out before he can hold it back.

Resting his hands onto the counter, Levi leans forward as well. “Depends.” 

Transfixed, all Eren can do is look back into grey eyes holding him in place. “On what?”

Levi holds the gaze for another few speeding heartbeats in Eren’s chest before he sets a plate with a slim slice of nut cake between them. “On whether you eat this.”

Deflating, Eren rolls his eyes with a snort. “Are you trying to feed me up? I did have a second lunch, you know.” 

Despite the remark, he digs in without hesitation. The nutty richness spreads in his system in an instant, and he closes his eyes in delight, releasing a soft groan. 

After the past two days, it’s almost weird to feel this normal. It’s nice. 

When he opens his eyes again, Levi is looking at him with a small smile and makes a gesture with his hand as he reaches for a cloth to wipe his work surface.  _ You’re welcome. _

Eren smiles and continues eating his cake. “Thank you. Does that mean I get more than two love bites?”

Levi smirks. “We’ll see after dinner, won’t we?”

“Not fair!” Eren mumbles, yet digs into his cake again before he asks, “What’s for dinner today anyway?” 

“Deep dish chicken from Magda,” Levi says, fetching something from below the worktop. “With a note.”

“A note?” Eren frowns, yet Levi already slides a small sealed envelope across the brass with Eren’s name written across the front. He picks it up and opens it, producing two folded sheets of paper with the same elegant handwriting as on the cover.

‘Eren,’ the first reads. ‘We hope you’re feeling better after what happened on Monday. If there’s anything you two need, we’re just around the corner. I also hope you and your Captain like this meal. It’s one of Luca’s favourites and easy to make. I’ll include the instructions for you to try when you’re back on your feet again. Lots of love. We really hope you’re better soon. Magda.’

The second one, as announced, contains simple instructions about frying chicken and cooking it in cream, potatoes, vegetables, and herbs with an easy shortcrust topping. It sounds delicious.

Feeling his eyes water as he skims the recipe and then the letter again, Eren clears his throat with a smile. “I’ll have to thank her.” 

Levi frowns, so Eren hands him the message. After reading it, Levi refolds it before handing it back. “Buy more candles.”

Eren snorts and drowns his awkwardness in his tea. 

“How was your day?” Levi asks.

Eren shrugs. “It was okay. Hanji got me a free day a month as it seems. And guaranteed serum for eternity the way it sounds like.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “Did she? How considerate.”

Chewing on another bite of nut cake, Eren grins. “How was it here?” 

“All right.”

“Vulture free?” Eren prods. 

The smile twitching around Levi’s mouth reaches his eyes as he snorts. “Hardly.” 

Eren is about to ask if there were any highlights when a familiar voice sounds at his back. “Hello Eren. It’s so good to see you here.”

He turns around on his stool and smiles at Rita’s sister. “Hello Lea.”

She’s surrounded by her friends who nod at Eren with friendly smiles before turning to Levi to pay for their food. Meanwhile, Lea slips into her winter coat and pulls her short dark ponytail out of her high collar. 

“I heard most of the racket at HQ is over for now with Queen Historia being there?” she asks. 

Eren smiles. “So it seems.”

“I’m glad she came over to help. It stirred up quite the euphoria around. The Colonel will be staying here for a while?”

“He will, yeah,” Eren replies with a nod. “Apparently, he plans to leave after breakfast on Friday in a week, but at least I can teach during that time.”

“That’s good to hear. Rita must be glad to have you back in class.” The wink she gives him resembles Rita’s, though it lacks the boisterous spirit her sister usually displays. 

“Yeah, she is.” Eren smiles, thinking of Rita’s shenanigans, her endless questions, and her talent for expelling gloom wherever she goes. 

Lea nods. “Last we heard you weren’t well on Monday. Are you feeling better? You certainly look less pale than people described you.” 

Eren scratches his jaw. “Yeah. I am.”

Her expression turns serious. “Listen, Eren…I already told Captain Levi, and I think you know as well, but we local MPs are behind you.” She gestures at her comrades who all nod and mumble their agreement. “We are aware our branch doesn’t pride itself on humanity. It’s a shame the bad stuff going around about us is all true, but there are different people amongst us as well.”

“It’s all right, Lea,” Eren says, feeling warm at her words. “We know.”

Her shoulders relax with a sigh. “I’m relieved then. I just wanted you to know we don’t believe anything the paper said, and don’t reinforce the silly rumours we hear either. It’s all rubbish. We’ve also countered the filthy rumours the Colonel’s scabs are spreading wherever we can so far and will continue to do so. If we hear anything important that might help you, we’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” Levi says. “We’re grateful for the support.”

“Good.” A spark flashes across Lea’s features, and that part is all mischievous Rita. “We wouldn’t mind if some of the news were true, though. Are you sure you don’t plan anything in the wedding department?” As her gaze wanders between the two of them, Eren can sense Levi glare behind him, yet Lea doesn’t seem to be scared of his wrath one bit. 

Feeling the warmth rise into dangerous temperatures that threaten to flush his tingling cheeks, Eren smiles back. “Yes. We’re sure. No wedding yet anyway.” 

“Ah, what a pity. Well, let us know if there’s any news. And oh! Your chair will arrive on Friday, though I think you already know about that,” she says. “Dad is so proud to have finished it this quickly.”

“Rita told me earlier. We’re looking forward to it.”

“Good to hear. Well then. See you soon, Eren. Captain Levi.” She waves, places some coins onto the counter with a smile, and leaves, followed by her friends. 

When Eren turns to look at Levi, he sighs, shrugs, locks the café, and goes to collect the group’s used tableware. There’s a slight hobble to his pace, and while Eren tries to assess how badly the foot must hurt, he wonders how much Levi walked today. 

With the ongoing enthusiasm about Historia’s stay in town alongside their non-existent engagement, the Sparrow must have hummed with people all day long. As it must have been since Sunday. Saturday was busy too, if Eren remembers correctly.  

Listening to Levi’s footsteps, Eren frowns, licking the last cake crumbs off his lips. It occurs to him now Levi doesn’t do weekend breaks. He hasn’t had a day off work for over a year. Regarding how this place looks and how much time and effort it must have cost to make it into what it is, two years even. 

When Levi picked him up from Magda’s on Monday night, Eren didn’t have any energy to think much about it. Yet as they walked home from HQ yesterday it crossed his mind he hasn’t seen Levi outside the café ever since his return from the ocean. Except for some pavement sweeping, unloading goods, the occasional window cleaning, and their walk across the snowy fields the week before. The mere idea of Levi being cramped in here—even if he enjoys his work, and this place has become their home—sends a heavy unfathomable ache into Eren’s bones. It makes him feel cold, despite the hot tea cup comforting his hands and the cosy atmosphere surrounding him. 

It isn’t right.

Levi should be able to go out and see the town at daylight hours. Or to do the grocery shopping for them without being dependant on deliveries. He should have the sun shine on his face on occasion. Winter has always been Levi’s favourite season. So far he barely had a chance to feel it tingle on his skin during daytime this year. To have it blow through his hair, or to fill his lungs with its crisp air. Fulfilled dream of owning a tea shop or not, Levi must miss being outdoors and flying how he once did. 

Footsteps behind him bring him back to the here and now, and Eren stands unsolicited, accompanying Levi into the staff department to help with the dishes. At least the sink is free, aside from what Levi adds to Eren’s emptied dessert plate. 

“Didn’t you have a work day of your own?” Levi asks whilst Eren fills the sink with a spoon full of soap flakes. 

“I don’t mind,” he replies, smiling at the fond reprimand in Levi’s voice as the tap spills steaming water. “It’s only a few cups and plates anyway.”

“Mm. Evelyn did a good job with spreading around I close early these days.”

“Why didn’t you tonight?” Eren asks. “Close early, I mean. I saw the sign is already flipped to ‘closed.’”

Levi shrugs. “Was about to, but then Lea came in. It was better to have something to do.” 

So he did wait, Eren thinks as Levi’s footsteps depart before approaching again, and Eren doesn’t have to turn to know Levi fetched a tea towel. 

His grey eyes look up at Eren, softening around the edges with a mild huff. A moment later, Levi’s thumb brushes some cake crumbs from the corner of Eren’s mouth, and Eren can’t stand it any longer. He catches Levi’s hand and bends down to steal a kiss. 

Despite his intentions to keep it innocent and something at least close to brief, his toes curl in his boots the moment Levi’s lips open beneath his, and he’s lost. Fingers finding their way into Levi’s undercut, he lets go, letting himself get carried away without restriction. Levi’s mouth is hot and wet, his tongue gentle as it slips against Eren’s, sending little sparks through his entire body. He distantly wonders whether kisses should always feel like this. As if the world would fade out, to leave only the drunken haze of dark comfort, fuzzy warmth, and the feeling as if someone licked over his cock without even so much as going near it.

He sighs at the loss when Levi parts to screw off the tap, and Eren takes a moment to realise the sink is full. “Oh. Sorry,” he mumbles. 

Levi snorts. “Right.”

Eren agrees with a grin, and starts to clean the dishes.

“So,” he says, fighting his way from images of kissing Levi some more. “How many marriage questions did you fend off today?” 

Levi pushes his fringe out of his brow. “One hundred and seventy-eight, proposal topics excluded. You?”

“Forty-nine. I think. Though I didn’t count separately. They even gave me tips to seduce you. It’s quite disturbing, actually.”

“They did?” Levi smirks. “Like what?”

Sighing, Eren skims through a few bits of advice he finds most shocking. “One said I should dance around naked whilst screaming out my love for you.”

“Connie?”

“Connie.”

“Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Eren asks. “How can you not be mortified about this? He suggested that before the entire class.”

“They can handle it.” Grey eyes sparkle as they meet Eren’s gaze. “Should I thank him for that image?”

He heaves a sigh. “You can at the weekend. They’re coming over on Saturday. I invited them for taking over my paperwork this week.”

“Mm. I’ll tell Norman to make an extra cake.” 

Pulling his swollen bottom lip between his teeth—it still tastes like Levi—Eren frowns at his hands working on a cup. They have to talk about this eventually, so why delay it? 

“Historia mentioned the wedding again too. She asked me if we’ve got any news.” He takes a deep breath and looks into grey, stern eyes. “I don’t want this to be a decree, Levi. It’s not how it should be. It should be our choice.”

“It will be,” Levi says, taking over the dripping cup to wipe it dry. 

Hands fastening around a plate in the hot dishwater, Eren searches for the right words. “I don’t want to put pressure on you.”

“You’re not. Am I putting pressure on you?”

“No,” Eren replies quickly. “It’s just…even if you wanted to ask me, no one should tell you to do it, that’s all. You deserve better,” he concludes with a sinking feeling in his chest. 

He can sense Levi looks at him, and wherever the sudden hesitance comes from, something keeps Eren from meeting his gaze. It’s as if something would break if he does. Something fragile and momentary.

Then Levi speaks, and the moment is over, slipping away just like that. “Let them think what they think, and say what they say. You can’t change their minds.”

“I know. But it’s hard not to argue with them when they say stuff like I should propose to show you I’m ready.”

“Idiots. They also say shit about how I should propose since you’re intimidated of me.”

Eren snorts. That’s ridiculous. “Really? When was I ever intimidated of you?”

“Cocky brat. You see my point though, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Eren admits, hands picking up their work in the sink again. Somewhere below the water a cup quietly knocks against another. “Yeah, I do.”

“Mm. If they’d have their way, it would be all sorts of shit anyway.” Levi continues. “One big ballyhoo and corny as fuck. Summer wedding no less.”

Grimacing, Eren lifts the clean plate from the sink to hand it over. “You hate summer.”

“I don’t hate it,” Levi says with a faint line deepening between his eyebrows. “I entertain a strong dislike.”

The comment elicits Eren a chuckle. “Can you imagine what it would be like if we’d listen to everything though?”

Levi huffs. “Huge.”

“Loud,” Eren supplies.

“Bug-infested.”

“Traditional.”

“Jolly,” Levi sighs.

Eren pulls a face. “Romantic.”

They both shudder and continue in harmonic, water splashing, bubble popping silence. Levi finishes drying the plate, sets it aside, and rests his free hand at the small of Eren’s back.

“We’ll find a way,” Levi says, retrieving his hand to take over another dripping cup from the sink. “When it’s time. I won’t put you through this shit while you are sick.”

“I’m not sick,” Eren corrects him.

“Not for discussion,” Levi says, though his voice is mild. “You’re not well, Eren, and you know it. I won’t risk making it worse by dragging you through an ordeal like a stupid fucking wedding circus which we both don’t want or need. I can’t.” 

Unsaid words underlay the spoken ones, and Eren swallows. “The symptoms will never go away, Levi.” 

“No. But we can plan around them and buy us some time,” Levi continues. “Historia will enforce this if we don’t, and would want to blow it up into this big arse thing at any rate. Hanji too, if differently, and with her the whole fucking town. Most of the Scouts as well.”

Eren groans. “I wanted it to be small.” 

“I know. Me too. We’ll have to meet them somewhere halfway, though. They want to celebrate, and they won’t take no for an answer. We’ll have soldiers to consider, both from the Corps and the local Military Police, some veterans, plus a good amount of the people in this town and from far away too. If we don’t organise it, they all will gang up and do it for us. So better take it into our own hands as long as we can.”

Hands plunged into dishwater, Eren scowls. “But I don’t want to rush this.” He looks at Levi. “I just found you. I like how things are.”

A frown appears on Levi’s brow, quiet, soft, and wordless. His eyes search Eren’s as if they were looking for something to say. “Are you still in on this?” he asks after a while. “We’ll deal with it either way. I don’t give a fucking shit about them if you’re not. But then we need another plan, and we need it before Claudio has left and Hanji has time again.”

_ Another _ plan? Is Levi already preparing things? Then Eren remembers this is not the point and jerks out of his thoughts.

“I only want you, Levi,” he says, reaching for Levi’s hand to link their fingers with a little tug. “I don’t care about the rest as long as you’re okay with how things are.”

Levi’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat before he nods. “Okay. Then we’re doing this.” He squeezes Eren’s hand, motions at the sink, and Eren continues with the dishes. 

He cleans a plate. A cup. Another cup. And then it blurts out. 

“That wasn’t your proposal, was it?”

A slow smirk curls Levi’s lips. “No.”

Sagging where he stands, Eren sighs. “Good.” Then he catches Levi’s lifted brow over sparkling eyes, hears what he said, and flushes all the way up to his hairline. “I mean good…just good…oh fuck. This is the worst conversation ever.”

Levi snorts. “I highly doubt that. You should listen to the brainfarts people let go in here all day long. Like the idiot who keeps insisting tea gives him diarrhoea every time he orders a fucking coffee.”

Snorting at the ridiculous statement, Eren smiles down at the sink, shaking his head. “Still pretty bad.”

Levi shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

Fondness pools in Eren’s belly as he fishes the last clean plate out of the sink and pulls the plug. “Good. I–” 

A knock on the entrance door cuts him off, followed by a muffled yet fierce female voice calling, “Hello? Oh, this is lovely. Such a nice interior, just as you described. Is anyone here? Hello?” 

Hands working on the last plate, Levi frowns. “Who might that be?” 

“Levi?” comes a second strong voice, male this time. It sounds familiar.

“Arne.” Giving Eren’s hip a brush of his hand after setting the dry plate aside, Levi heads through the customer area to unlock the door. It opens with a chime of the bell. 

“Good evening,” Levi says. His voice is so grateful Eren hurries to wipe the sink clean and collects the plates and cups into the carry bin so they are in a nice stack to bring out to the counter shelves. 

“Oh, hello,” the woman replies. She sounds as though she’s more used to giving orders than bending to them. “I apologise for banging on your glass like this, but we rang the bell for upstairs first, and there was no answer. Arne said you needed some urgent help for someone ill. We would have come yesterday, but there was a breech delivery that kept me busy. You must be Levi.”

Levi closes the door behind them as Eren leaves the staff department, the dishes in his grasp. “Yes, I am. Eren,” Levi points at the small woman with wild dark curls, standing next to Arne, “this is–”

“Healer Briar,” the woman says. “Nice to meet you, Eren. So tell me. How can I help you two?”


	12. Briar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you care for a soundtrack going with today's update, I highly recommend Disintegration by The Cure—especially the first title (Plainsong) on endless repeat.  
> Have fun with reading! <3

When Levi mentioned he asked a healer to help with the symptoms the previous evening, Eren pictured a doctor with a doctor’s bag, a sincere look, and maybe a pair of glasses. More or less, he pictured his father. Or someone like his father’s colleagues which Eren met in his youth. He suspected they’d take one look at him, and then declare with utter regret in their voice it seemed like he was about to die, and rather soon. There was nothing they could do but stick to the time-tested serum and hope for the best.

Reality couldn’t be more different. 

Briar’s face is tanned, even in winter. Her eyes are sharp, her pale irises encompassed by compelling dark circles, and the efficient air surrounding her every move shows no hesitance in dealing with a person. Even should that person be Titan shifter. Instead of a doctor’s bag, she carries a willow basket. Instead of glasses, she wears multiple layers of colourful shawls. And instead of smelling like sickness and disinfectants, she smells like dewy moss after the first heavy autumn rain. 

While Eren takes in her appearance, Arne takes his place at one of the bar stools. “I promised I’d bring the best healer within the three walls, Levi. Here she is.” 

Displaying no modesty whatsoever, Briar nods. “We will get whatever is wrong under control. I’ll need information to make the right medicines, but I am certain I can help you. Now, tell me if I’m mistaken here, but I assume I was called in for you.” Her clear eyes pin Eren with penetrating intensity.

It is a statement, yet Eren answers nonetheless. “Yes.”

She comes right to the point. “Arne said you are having very bad migraines.”

“That’s right,” Eren says.

“Shall we sit while you tell me about them?”

While Levi brews a large pot of Earl Grey, Eren and Briar join Arne at the customer-side of the counter. Despite being responsible for this meeting, Levi moves with his reserved, watchful sort of proficiency he always displays before strangers. A scowl—which Eren knows to be neutral no matter how intimidating or even hostile it’s supposed to come across—completes the image. 

The protective guardedness would make Eren smile if the cause for Briar’s presence wasn’t a serious matter. So he focuses on her and leaves Levi’s instinctive reactions uncommented.

“I had a migraine incident on Monday,” he tells Briar. “Two actually. A short one in the early morning and then a stronger burst on my way home after work. It stuck around until yesterday evening, though it wasn’t as bad anymore as the day before.” 

Briar watches Eren with attentive observation and tilts her head, waiting for him to finish before she asks, “When you say ‘bad,’ how bad exactly?”

Though Levi remains silent, Eren can see him frown at Briar, and there’s a small shift in the atmosphere from behind the bar. It almost feels impressed. Or astonished perhaps. 

“I nearly passed out during that second one Monday night.”

Eyes blinking in understanding, Briar gives a quiet hum as she motions Eren to continue. 

“A friend found me and helped. She gave me a hot toddy to get me back on my feet, and then Levi picked me up. After that, the evening is a bit blurry.”

“Did the herbs your friend give you help?” Briar asks. “Do you know what they were?”

“They did,” Eren replies, once more grateful for Magda’s kindness. Levi was right. It really was careless of him to go home alone in his state. “And yes, I do. Mint with some honey and a bit of whisky to heat me up.” 

The water boils, and Levi pulls it off the flame to pour it into the pot while Briar nods. “Good choice. Simple yet solid and effective. Peppermint leaf, chamomile, and thin sliced ginger root infused together are excellent for stress-related migraines involving nausea. It’s a calming combination and a wise choice to give as starting treatment. I already had it in mind for you to try too.” 

She pushes her basket on the counter a bit to the side to make space for a quadripartite set of tea cups. Blinking at the even number, Eren almost startles for a second before he smiles at the quiet presence to his left. Historia might fail to blend with a room wherever she goes. Arne, on the other hand, seems to be an expert in doing so.

Meanwhile, Briar proceeds with assessing her first impression out loud. “Another option in addition to the infusion would be concentrated peppermint oil. I have a small flask with me here. It’s very sharp as you’ll smell when you open it. It cools and refreshes, and you can dab a drop onto your temples or nape. It works well with sinusitis too should you get ill.”

“I’ll try it,” Eren says. “I don’t really get ill, however.”

“Don’t you?” Briar asks, her fiery eyebrows knitting in a frown that draws her entire forehead together. “That’s interesting, considering why I’m here.” 

Eren smiles as he explains. “I still get headaches and nausea. Hangover too. I heal quickly and am immune to illness and viruses and stuff, but…” He shrugs. 

“But you still feel pain.” Briar taps a finger against her chin. “So this quick healing is related to the Titan shifter condition, I understand?”

“Yes. I’ve got Titan cells in my spinal fluid,” Eren replies. “They make me heal just like them.”

“They also make you sick though,” Levi says, and Eren bites his lip. 

“So they do,” he relents, resisting the urge to fidget. Talking about his physical weaknesses in such detail has always been uncomfortable. Growing up never much changed that. It makes him feel inadequate. Briar’s practical no-nonsense reactions, which remind him of Hanji, make it easier at least. 

Arne seems to sense his reluctance to discuss any more details, and clears his throat. “I could come back later if you want, Eren. Won’t tell anyone though if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Goldenrod spheres look at him from behind bushy brows, muted by honest concern, and Eren shakes his head. Levi trusted Arne enough to ask him for help. Arne is all right. 

Levi catches his eyes and gives him an encouraging nod.

“No, Arne, you can stay. It’s okay.” Turning back to Briar as Arne nods with a hum, Eren continues. “The cells come with symptoms.”

Briar nods. “Like the heavy migraines. Arne mentioned vomiting episodes.”

“Yes,” Eren says. “Caused by the memories and migraine cramps. When it gets bad, I have to barf. My stomach is a little queasy for a couple hours once I finish, but it mostly makes the headache better.”

“Feels like crap though,” Briar huffs with a little grimace that wrinkles her nose. “And you need the food in your stomach, not out of it.” 

“That’s where we’re hoping you’ll come into play,” Levi says. His tone is as relaxed as his visual appearance, yet Eren can sense the lingering tension and the challenge in his words. 

“I puked Monday morning,” he says, shooting Briar a terse smile.

“I see. The pamphlets the population were given two years ago weren’t too conclusive on the Titan cells,” she says. “Not outside of saying your spinal fluids were the carrier for the Titan shifting powers, and a serum was developed to prevent you from shifting now that the war is over. So I’d like to know more about these Titan cells as they might be affecting your cardiovascular system and liver functions. Even if there’s no visible damage doesn’t mean there’s nothing wrong, otherwise, you wouldn’t have any problems.”

The Earl Grey is finished steeping, and Levi pours them their tea, dealing out the cups starting with Eren, then Arne, and Briar before pouring his own share. “Cake’s gone, I’m afraid.”

Arne answers with a dismissive wave while Briar shakes her head. The lines around her pale eyes crinkle as she smiles. 

“Tea is fine on its own when it’s good, thank you.” She pulls her cup closer, revealing a small ragged seam in her jacket as she leans forward. It looks like some thorns tore it bad enough even patching it up with skilful stitching couldn’t conceal it entirely. “It already looks lovely,” she says, positioning the cup in a way so the handle faces her left before she addresses Eren again. 

“Can you give me a description of the cells in combination with the symptoms? Like do they ever affect your circulation or blood pressure? Do you get heart palpitations, light-headed, or do you feel dizzy with the onset of the migraines? The more detailed the description the better.”

Shrugging, Eren recapitulates his physicals and must admit he doesn’t have much of a clue. “I have regular examinations at HQ but I’m not sure if it is affecting my blood pressure or not,” he says, scratching his cheek. 

Hanji and Cookie sometimes look upset when they’re taking notes on his vital signs the week before the next injection. After overwhelming him with medical terms the first few times, however, Eren learnt to blend their chatter out. Of course, there is the dizziness, but he always thought it was because of the increased need for nutrition when the symptoms hit hard.

A tapping finger on the countertop makes him meet Levi’s gaze and suggest a shrug. In reply, Levi’s brow creases in a brief frown, and Eren smiles at his hands in an implied nod. He might not know everything about his symptoms, but Hanji does. He has no problem with her being part of this. If anything, it might help.

“We can arrange a meeting with our scientist,” Levi says. 

“You can?” Briar asks, perking up. “That would be great. How soon do you think it will be until it takes place? I can come any time during the day too. I just thought for now it would be better in the evening to not disturb any eavesdropping customers. I can go directly to their place as well if that’s more convenient.”

“She’s currently under observation by a bunch of mucky-mucks who don’t like Eren’s existence,” Levi replies. “But you could write her, and we can deliver messages. She’s a friend.”

“Family is more like it,” Eren amends.  

Levi smiles. “Yes. She’s the Commander of Survey Corps, so reaching her is easy. She’s here often too. I send her breakfast and coffee every morning if she isn’t here before the café opens.”

Briar seems to grow on her seat as a beam spreads across her entire face. “Oh, excellent. I’ve heard so much about Hanji Zoe in the last few years. I’ve dreamt about discussing medical knowledge with her. Meeting her would be wonderful! Do you think she’d be willing to talk about Eren’s situation with me?”

Eren snorts. Saying Hanji would be willing to talk about Titans would be like stating Levi is strong enough to wield a knife. He catches Briar’s puzzled glance and nods. “Definitely. We’ll make sure you have a chance to talk to her. Take some time with you. Titans are her favourite subject, so it might take a while.” The two passionate people cooped up together will probably be an interesting combination. 

Going by the look on Levi’s face, he thinks so too. “Next Friday good for you?” he asks. His lips twitch as he adds, “Better keep your weekend free.”

Eren chuckles. “There’s an inn down the road. We can arrange a stay there.”

Face alight, Briar smiles. “Let’s do that. Then I can check in on you next week and provide you with a better selection of herbs. Considering the peculiar newness of this case, it might even be better than my usual bi-weekly check-up anyway. 

“Until then, I truly think peppermint is our global choice here. We should make sure to supply you with an emergency ration of properly collected and dried leaves, both for here and your workplace, just in case. You’ll feel better while we focus on controlling the cause. If you only counter the symptoms of something, you don’t cure anything after all.”

Cure it? 

Eyebrows shooting together, Eren looks at Levi who shifts behind the counter, turning to Briar with a ponderous expression. “What do you know about the serum, or the Titan virus as we now call it?”

“Aside from what I’ve heard in these past fifteen minutes, mostly what the pamphlets said,” Briar says. Her tea steams before her face as she takes a careful sip with a content smile. “I know the serum’s main ingredient is blue bellflower essence. I know it helped to win the war, that Hanji Zoe created it, and that it helps to keep the shifting under control. Why?”

In Eren’s periphery, Levi lowers his head in a hinted nod, fingers giving one single tap onto the countertop. 

Eren gives himself a push. “What do you know about Titan shifters in general, Briar?” he asks.

“That there are supposed to be nine sources, of which you have eight and Armin Arlert one. Each source has special abilities which are where their titles come from. That you shift by injuring yourselves and that the serum keeps accidental shifting from happening. That’s about it.” She tilts her head with a frown. “I always wondered though: Regarding you and Armin Arlert are both on our side, is the serum truly for ensuring you don’t accidentally shift because of minor injuries? Otherwise, it doesn’t make much sense to me. You’d have more power without it in case of an aggressive attack.”

“True, Briar. Never made much sense, that part,” Arne says, rubbing his stubbly chin. “It’s like deliberate weakening of two powerful soldiers without any justification. You don’t go into the woods without maintained weapons, and a stock of bullets at hand in case of emergencies like wolves or bears in a bad mood.”

Eren scratches his head. To explain further would require revealing classified information. Levi taps against the counter again one single time. It’s Eren’s choice whether to tell or not, and he swallows. He promised Levi to try. Promised to give his all to survive a long time ago when they found out about the lifespan issue. 

Levi wants to marry him, symptoms or not. Said it, not half an hour ago. Eren knows the serum works, he feels it in his blood, his heart. What if the serum has an expiration date though? What if in five years, ten, or twenty, the sources become immune, or the bell flowers aren’t a reliable source any longer? Will he start where he left off with the first injection, or will the years of serum dosage not make any difference at all? Or, even worse, will the sources speed up their progress killing him after being kept under control for this long? 

Is he ready to gamble for his life? If it weren’t for the serum, he’d have one and a half years left to spend with Levi. Miserable ones at that. The sources would finish eating him up from the inside, taking over his body, his mind, his everything, bit by bit, until there’s nothing left of his personality. Eren will do everything he can to ensure Levi will not have to witness such. He’s seen it happen in some of the other hosts’ memories. He’s caused Levi enough pain already. 

Eren balls his fists. “I’m not supposed to discuss the full Titan information before getting the okay from Commander Hanji.” 

“But, if Briar knows as much as she says, she might be the perfect person to help Hanji find a lasting cure,” Levi says. “Or at least a better solution.” His grey eyes meet Eren’s across the counter, steely and firm, conveying one single message:  _ Fuck the fucking rule book. _

After several moments, Eren nods in return. He has to at least try. For him and Levi both. If they don’t fight, they can only lose. 

Even if he should get into trouble, Arne brought someone trustworthy. What if she knows something essential?  

“The serum Commander Hanji makes is to keep the sources under control,” Eren says. “The pamphlets are a bit misleading because the serum isn’t meant to prevent shifting. That’s only a side effect of forcing the sources to be dormant most of the time. They push back in, though, before the next dose is in order. That’s when the symptoms set in.”

“Ah. So that’s why Hanji Zoe devised the serum,” Briar says with a nod. “I see. So the symptoms are stronger when the serum wears off. Is it meant to keep you pain-free from the sources’ influence?”

“Actually, it’s meant to keep us alive,” Eren says. “Without it…” He shrugs, words failing him. 

“Shifters have an exact thirteen-year life expectancy from the moment they become a host,” Levi says in his stead. His voice is calm, composed, and so cold it makes Eren shudder. 

Briar is not stupid. Eren could tell as much the moment she greeted him with her handshake. She’s kind, wise, and fierce; a healer to the core. She’s also not afraid to look dreadful illnesses right in the eye and brave the battle needed to win. The knowing gaze she grants Eren tells him she makes the right connection. It’s like her near crystal-hued eyes are on fire, burning with anger as tiny lines of earthy colours seem to leap into focus.

“The newest history books claim you acquired the first Titan eleven years ago,” Briar points out. 

Mouth pressing into a stiff smile, Eren nods. “The first pair, yes. I inherited them from my father.”

“So these… I’ll call them parasites since that’s what they sound to me with this revelation. Correct me if I misunderstood, but these parasites not only make you eat people to return to your human self. They also hand you a death sentence?”

“Yes,” Levi answers as he wipes down the spotless counter with practised, sufficient movements, avoiding Eren’s eyes. 

Arne looks at Levi, hands clenching on the countertop. “How do you deal with knowing you could lose Eren to some parasite, or whatever it is?”

“I count things down here, like stock and customers, and upstairs I sharpen knives,” Levi says. “I also clean a lot.”

“Good man.” Arne nods. “Could use that too now. Sharpening. Good work. Doesn’t beat an actual hunt for getting rid of frustration though.” 

His voice is so grim Eren has no doubt Arne was one of the few people who defended the citizens from the last Titan attack on this town. They weren’t able to do much in the end, but they helped a few more people to escape before the Survey Corps arrived with the right weapons and skills to take down the enemy forces. 

“Should I fetch you some honing supplies?” Levi offers. 

Arne huffs a dark bark of a laugh. “I’ll do it at home. People really should know about this, Levi.”

Levi shakes his head. “The government decided they can’t know. It would create mass panic if the population knew the full truth. The sources carry on after killing the host’s body. They seek new hosts if the current one dies without being eaten. Best kept to specific people trained to deal with the shifter’s task of controlling the Titans.”

There’s another moment of silence in which Briar looks at Eren with nothing but fierce determination, while Eren bites on his lip and tries not to cringe under Levi’s returned glare. He recognises the tone, heavy with unspoken anger, can feel the directed movements that are a bit too forceful in nature. Zackley’s secondary directive to keep several strong soldiers trained and at the ready to inherit the Titan sources has always infuriated Levi. It’s the government’s lack of faith in Hanji, and even in Eren’s and Armin’s ability to survive beyond their predetermined time limits which offends him most. 

If he looked into Levi’s eyes now, Eren will cry in Levi’s stead, and probably not stop for the rest of the night. So be blinks the underlying pain and anger back with a gulp, and looks at the shiny surface of the brass counter as his pulse drums in his ears. 

He’s about to say something to break the gloom, but Arne beats him to it. “Hasn’t the blasted government caused enough heartache already? Thought you got rid of the main arseholes so the rest of us could have decent lives, Levi. Now you’re admitting the bastards are keeping people on standby to kill with this same disease instead of finding a real cure? Sorry good for nothing sons of bitches!” 

Smile twitching on his lips, Eren finds Briar’s eyes. “We’d rather not let that happen,” he says. “For now the serum works. Hanji checks regularly to assure Armin and I are not in any danger of infecting others. It’s a simple precaution in case the serum ever fails. Nothing more. We only have a few vessels of the Titan agent because nobody wants to ever have to create a new host.”

Briar nods. “The information is safe with me. Both of us. I always handle everything a patient tells me with strict confidentiality. In this case, though, I’d like to ask for permission to discuss this further with Hanji Zoe, and with plenty of rope to tie her to a chair if need be. We will most likely debate topics that are highly private, including the sensible actions needed. It will help to find a real solution, otherwise, I wouldn’t ask.” 

Fumbling with his tea cup, Eren clears his throat. “Of course. Hanji knows everything about me anyway. Though it may be that Supreme Commander Zackley has told her to keep her mouth shut.”

“Historia can override his gagging orders if given the right incentives,” Levi huffs before turning to Briar. “I’ll tie  _ her _ to a sturdy chair myself for you if you’d like.”

“Good. That will make things easier.” She looks at Levi. “Let’s be clear on a few additional things while I’m at it. Eren’s illness concerns you just as much as him. You may not be afflicted directly, but it’s not only the patient I deal with in my practice. It’s their family who needs my help too. Especially in severe, and potentially terminal cases like this seems to be. Not all wounds can be seen. And regarding health-issues, I’m nosy, blunt, and tenacious. I don’t mince matters either.”

She folds her hands as she continues. “Coming back to Eren’s case. If you prefer to be present when I talk to Miss Zoe, we can arrange meetings with the four of us. We should do it like this for the first few meetings at any rate, so you can see how I work. I don’t take trust lightly. Nor my patients’ wishes. But in matters like this, I’d rather have you fully convinced I can help, so you can make better decisions. And words may sound pretty and all, but they don’t matter much when it comes to trust. I’m going to need you and Eren both to get Hanji Zoe working together with me to get rid of these parasites.”

Holding her gaze for a stretching moment, Levi nods. “Permission granted. We can meet here after I close in the evenings, or upstairs over dinner. Monday, I work late. Any other day is fine.”

Briar holds out her hand, and Levi grants her a twitch of a smirk as he takes it in his for a brief shake. 

“How would you like your payments?” Levi asks. 

“Man of action, are you?” she asks. Her eyes look alive. “I take to that. I don’t take money unless that’s all the patient has to give. I prefer barter. Favours. Amenities. Help for help. I also take payment in knowledge, and I’m a fan of your friend, so talking shop with her will suffice if she’s willing to share all she knows about these parasites so I can help create a cure.”

Levi hums. “You can also choose a caddie of tea per meeting in exchange for your remedies, and we’ll have a deal.”

“Taken,” Briar says and lifts her cup with Earl Grey. “I’ll start with one of these for the herbs I brought with me today for the sick stomach and headache symptoms. Now, chins up. Worry is natural, but it doesn’t change things. What does is help, and that’s what I’m here to provide to you two and Miss Zoe. So I’d say we start with ensuring Eren can go through his days with a clear head whilst feeling himself. What’s your full prescribed treatment so far, aside from the serum?”

“Sleep, lots of extra food, and as little stress as possible the last week of every month,” Levi replies.

“And hugs,” Eren says, the words slipping out before he can stop himself. Heat flushes his face, but Briar’s only reaction to this is a serious nod.

“Feeling good helps,” she says. “What about therapeutic sex?” 

“What!” Eren’s head shoots up as his eyes widen in shock.

“Sex,” Briar repeats in a matter of fact tone. It sounds as if she was asking for a refill of tea. “It helps with a lot of problems people have. Aren’t you active?”

“Um…” Eren’s skin is catching fire as he side-eyes Levi for help, but Levi is smirking outright. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Briar says. “Have you tried it to see if it restricts the headaches?”

“You mean like a stand-in for pain medication?” Levi asks, interest lacing his question. 

Eren wants to cover his ears.

“Yes,” Briar says. “It can help you connect with yourself and keep you grounded when other things are trying to control your body. Pleasure curbs pain for a bit too. Have you ever experienced long periods without touch? No, don’t answer that, it’s a rhetorical question. It’s called touch starvation. We’re not designed to go without physical connection with others. It does us good to feel the warmth of another person’s skin. It also shifts chemicals between bodies that boost the immune system. Contact doesn’t even have to involve full-blown sex, though it is a similar principle, of course, and again a bit more powerful as a chemical releaser when feelings are involved.”

“Isn’t it bad energy management whenever Eren’s feeling like he’s about to pass out?” Levi asks, and Eren wishes he could sink through the floorboards. 

Briar shakes her head. Some wild strands of her hair flow over her shoulders, and she brushes them back. “Not necessarily. I’m not saying to go at it like rabbits with no end. But don’t hold back because you think it will damage him. There are techniques too you can try to reduce the energy released whilst at the same time producing it. It’s uplifting, actually, rather than draining.”

“Hm,” Levi says. 

“Oh by the Walls,” Eren groans at the gleaming eyes. Levi is not actually considering this, is he? “Can we please talk about something else? You make it sound like our sperm is magic or something.”

Levi snorts along with Arne over his complaint.

“It’s natural hormone balancing at the finest level, Eren,” Briar says with a shrug. “Sex also helps suspend depression and decreases stress. It can also help reduce the symptoms of trauma, and is known to boost the immune system. I’ll give you some tips if you want.” 

Mortified, Eren hides his face in his hands. This can’t be happening. And how did they come from talking about him dying to this topic anyway?

“This is embarrassing,” he mumbles into his hands. “I will not use sex as a form of medication.”

“No?” Levi asks with a challenging lilt to his voice. 

Blinking through his fingers, Eren looks at sparkling grey eyes beneath a raised pair of sharp eyebrows. 

“This is so weird,” he whispers. “How will I know you actually want me too? I don’t want you to feel forced into doing that.”

“Yes, because that’s always such a problem for me,” Levi replies with a smug quirk to his lips. A choked snicker has Levi turning to Arne. “Thank you for the fur, by the way. He likes it.”

“Oh god,” Eren says over Arne’s even louder guffaw. “This can’t be happening.”

“Are you sure he’s a Titan shifter?” Briar asks.

“Yes, I’ve checked,” Levi replies dryly. 

The comment makes Eren emerge from behind his hands. “Now you’re all just making fun of me. Don’t you have some healing matters to discuss? Like how do I get rid of the nausea problem each month so I don’t scare Levi half to death vomiting my guts up with insane force, maybe?”

Levi smirks, and Briar nods, continuing as though nothing has happened.

“I might need to make you a tincture to help with the dizzy spells. There are solutions to calm the nervous system whilst also bringing the blood pressure down so the brain stops swelling. Which may be what’s causing you the most pain. I’d still prefer to get feedback on your vital statistics first before making such a strong medication. Better to be safe instead of doing blind prescription preparations that can do more harm than good if your cardio system isn’t being affected.” 

Levi hums. “I think we can have Eren’s basic physical information for you within a couple of days. Our Penman or Hanji can get the full list of symptoms and general physical information jotted down in the evenings after the Colonel and the Queen are out of their hair.”

“Excellent. For the moment let’s start with the peppermint and ginger root infusion. Peppermint is good for the cramps, plus it helps with the stomach and all sorts of gastrointestinal problems. It also helps with intestinal spasms and nausea. It even eases toothaches when in essential oil form, though I think that last part isn’t an issue with your rapid healing abilities.” She tilts her head, her small mouth pursing as it draws to a side. “Do you really heal any injury apart from getting your head cut off? Even in human form within minutes like the rumours claim?”

After casting another glance at Levi, who hides a ponderous frown with a downward glance into his cup, Eren swallows. His hands long to reach across the counter to hold Levi’s in assurance he’s still here, yet he keeps them to himself. 

“Mostly, yeah,” he says, turning back to Briar. “As long as I have enough energy stored. I can also choose not to heal most minor injuries to conserve energy whenever needed.”

Widening eyes hold his. “Can you give me a presentation? I’ve never met a shifter before. It’s amazing to think a body can heal like this.”

“If you want.” Eren shrugs and allows the most prominent love bite on his neck to heal. 

Steam rises before his eyes with a prickling sensation on his throat, and Eren knows the bruise is gone. He tries not to mourn the loss of Levi’s claim. Levi will give him a new one later. 

“Fascinating!” Briar whoops, almost toppling off her stool as she grasps Eren’s shirt while inspecting his neck closer than is comfortable. Up from this close, her scent reminds Eren of a wild field after a spring shower, redolent with a variety of plants in bloom. “So you can control your healing of injuries separately?” 

Levi mumbles something into his cup that sounds a lot like “showoff!” yet Eren ignores it with a smile. At least Levi is done brooding over the past.

Arne chuckles into his cup. “Walls help us all when she gets interested in something,” he murmurs while Briar stares up at Eren like a hungry hawk. 

Eren’s thoughts at her continued too close proximity are summed up in one single sentence when Levi shakes his head at Arne. 

“She’s another bloody Hanji.”

Eren grins but ignores their separate conversation in favour of answering Briar’s question. “When I have the strength for it. I can choose to heal or not so long as my focus isn’t wavering,” he admits, still caught in Briar’s mitts.

“Stunning! Absolutely stunning. I must talk to Miss Zoe, that’s for sure. Interesting how you can still have health problems at all like this. You’re a walking miracle!” 

Not sure what to make of that comment, Eren shrugs and rubs his arm. The following silence feels awkward, so he clears his throat and addresses a topic that most likely will make it stop. The tactic works on Hanji, so maybe it helps here too. 

“So…um…peppermint and ginger infusion will help with the migraines and nausea, you said?”

“Yes!” Briar says with a nod as she releases his shirt and resettles on her stool. “It’s a wonderful plant combination. You’ll see. Often when you have leaves to brew for infusions—this is truly lovely by the way,” she inserts, lifting her cup with Earl Grey, “the leaves aren’t of a good quality because they are mass dried for mainstream brews. So I brought you a whole bag from my own supplies. They are dried to retain all their medical properties. Requires a different routine to preserve them but it’s worth the extra work and attention. 

“I want you to drink one cup before or with each meal and see if you handle it well. I also have some pre-sliced ginger root for you. Likewise prepared so it retains the medicinal benefits,” Briar says whilst pulling out the supplies. “Boil six slices of the ginger in three cups of water until it is reduced to roughly a cup and a half of liquid. Leave the root slices steeping until the brew is bearable to the touch. Crumple the peppermint up to release the oils before you put them into the ginger infusion. A teaspoon of herbs per cup will suffice. Ten minutes of steeping the mint before straining and drinking.”

She gives one of the bundles a pat as she smiles. “Each package includes the written instructions, by the way, so you don’t have to worry about memorising everything. I know it’s all a bit much at once, especially in the beginning.”

That will make it easier. “Thank you,” Eren says as he eyes the cloth-wrapped items.

“Next step would be adding chamomile if this combination doesn’t work well enough to alleviate the symptoms, I’d say. Ginger you can try adding to your meals if you find the infusion too spicy. I also have some pickled root that lasts in the pantry for quite a while right…here.” She produces a glass jar from her basket and places it onto the counter. “It is best for cooking.”

While Levi inspects the herbal packages, Eren picks up the small glass to have a closer look, and feels himself smile at bright yellow slices surrounded by a clear liquid. It looks tasty. Like preserved happiness waiting to be tasted.

“It’s blanched and conserved in sweetened vinegar,” Briar explains. “I have a young patient with stomach problems who snacks on them like candy, so you should like them.” Her eyes sparkle as she winks at Eren. “You feel like a sweet tooth to me. Furthermore, caffeine can help with headache in controlled amounts, and I wonder…” 

She purses her lips as she narrows her opal reminiscent eyes. “You mentioned memories making you feel sick. Can you describe them more clearly in how they make you feel? Do they give you headaches when they surface, or do they cause the vomiting because the memories are so disturbing to recall?”

“Sometimes both. Depends.” Setting aside the ginger, Eren tries his best to elaborate. “I had to absorb all the shifter sources except Armin’s Colossal Titan to end the war. All I can say is the memories are not my own. They come from the various Titan sources and their hosts throughout the centuries. Sometimes I relive bad stuff that happened to other hosts which makes me nauseous. Sometimes they turn my insides around as if the sources are trying to control me, and sometimes they simply cause me headaches. Sometimes it adds up to feeling like I’m being crushed under a lot of pressure. Sometimes not.”

Briar hums and taps her chin, murmuring to herself. “I wonder if the nausea is solely tied to the memories you actively see, or does it include those you can’t see?”

Looking up in surprise, Eren frowns at the angle in her theory. “Is there a difference?” 

“It can make one in the amount of trauma reaction your body tries to handle. In your case, I can’t know for certain yet, but that’s what all the questions are meant to address.” Briar places her basket beside her feet before folding her hands around her tea cup. “Aromatherapy might be something worth trying with you, now that I think about it. Focused zone reflexology can also help alleviate physical distress as well. How do the Titan sources usually behave and make you feel, memories aside?”

“As I already said, Hanji describes them as dormant most of the time,” Eren replies, fiddling with his hands in his lap. He senses Levi’s gaze on him and licks his lips. 

“Without the serum, I have phases of disorientation and not being myself when they try to take me over. They haven’t really gotten so far yet but, it happens that I say things without knowing I said them or without understanding what they mean sometimes since not all the hosts speak our language. I feel drained and restless then. It’s like I’m not entirely myself. The serum makes it better and keeps that in check. When it wears off and I’m overstraining myself, the symptoms return. So those months are rather bad for about a week. The next serum dose fixes it though.”

Briar frowns. “How long have you guys been taking the serum? Since the war ended?”

“A bit longer, “Eren says. “Two years, roughly. Once every month. I’ll take my next dose on Sunday.”

“Hm…bellflower essence…” Her voice trails off. “After talking to Hanji Zoe I’ll be able to help better. For now, let’s focus on one treatment at a time. We don’t want to drug you before finding the optimum way to deal with this. Are you open to try more eccentric methods too?”

Thinking of Hanji and her craziest ideas mostly being the most effective, Eren huffs a snort. “It’s all I know so far. It seems to be the best way.”

“Good.” Briar nods and takes a sip of Earl Grey, smiling her thanks when Levi refills her cup. “Then stick to the peppermint and ginger for now. I’ll bring a herbal mixture next time, just as some herbs and resins for burning.” 

Her voice assumes a tactical, almost quiet, tone as though she’s thinking about options out loud. “From what I heard so far, I think mugwort, sage, dammar, dandelion root, feverfew, and yarrow are all strong candidates for possible tincture combinations. Chamomile is always a good backup, but it also tends to mess with the potency of many tinctures so it’s not always ideal. Especially not if you have cardiovascular issues or liver function problems for the last week of each month. You could try burning some peppermint like incense to freshen your mind, but I’d rather recommend that in summer. It’s better to take one step at a time too. So let’s focus on the infusion and using the peppermint oil on your temples for emergencies first.

“The next herb to try would be rosemary, I think. It’s a good herb, so we can add it to your meals. And then there’s always valerian root which is sometimes called ‘all heal’ for good reason. Do you know it, Levi?” She turns to him, and her voice sounds more rooted in the present now. “It helps with fitful sleep too, so maybe it might be good for the both of you. Don’t look so surprised, I’m neither blind nor an apprentice. Blunt, remember? You look like you don’t sleep much, nor have you for a long time.”

Levi stares at Arne who barks in brief laughter. “I told you she’s the best, Levi.” He smiles before giving an appreciative hum into his cup. “Wouldn’t bring you a fool when Eren’s in need of real expertise.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Levi says and turns back to Briar. “We’ll try it.”

“Wise choice. You’ll sleep better, especially after a good round of sex with this one.” She points at Eren and grins. “He looks like he’s quite talented in exhausting anyone he’s with. Good for you.”

Shaking his head in ashamed disbelief, Eren looks at Levi and mirrors his lifted eyebrow. Truly. Hanji will be thrilled with Briar. 

 

*

 

Two hours, many questions, some advice, one love bite, and a hearty dinner later, Eren sits in his favourite corduroy armchair and sets up a long-awaited game of chess. 

Admitted, the last three days were too intense and depleting for leisurely after-work activities. Yet it’s good to be back to their treasured routine. To the quiet repose of tangled feet, homespun comfort, and the fire crackling at their side. To the flames illuminating Levi in all the best ways whilst sharing a pot of tea over the familiar black and white figures lining the chequerboard. 

It doesn’t much matter that the symptom talk with Briar sapped Eren’s energy reserves. Or that after receiving his new love bite, Levi and he traded some drawn-out kisses in the kitchen that all carried the promise of more to come. Nor does it matter that Levi’s eyes have been watching him with unconcealed interest all evening long, or that Levi’s rolled up shirt sleeves and opened top button have been a magnet for Eren’s eyes ever since they went upstairs. 

They both thrive on habits. Especially Levi, and whether or not Eren would love to drag Levi into the bedroom to fuck until the sun comes up, they are adults. They can behave a little bit. Maybe. 

“Is this really necessary?” Eren asks, pointing at the burning pair of candles on the coffee table. 

Levi’s lips quirk into a smile. “We had Magda’s dinner. It’s only appropriate we use her candles too, don’t you think?” He pours them both a tea before placing Eren’s cup into his reach. 

After Levi insisted on a prescribed peppermint infusion to accompany dinner, Eren chose the roasted tea stems for chess. That felt appropriate. The candles, however…

“It’s like she’s watching us,” Eren says.

Levi smirks. “Let her.” 

“Is this about what Briar said? About you not having to be careful?”

_ I don’t want you to feel obligated,  _ lays on his tongue, though the moment the thought is there, he hears in his head what he is about to say and how insulting it is. As if sex between them would be a chore. 

Levi’s thin eyebrow lifts in a wordless statement, and Eren decides it’s senseless to agonise about this. Besides, reality couldn’t be more different. Sometimes Eren still can’t believe Levi wants him that way too, with kisses that taste as if Levi wanted to climb into Eren, and smiles Levi doesn’t share with anyone else. With looks that caress Eren from head to toes and feel like a pair of gentle hands trying to undress him, even now.

“Forget about it,” he concedes, scratching his head. “Sorry.”

“Mm. Do you  _ want _ me to be careful?” Mischievous, fire-tinted eyes twinkle behind a raised cup, darkening with intent. 

Engrossed, Eren stares back as his mind supplies him with a multitude of graphic images and sensations. Levi’s tongue nudging against his with slow glides, his oil-slicked fist stroking Eren’s cock. Lazy thrusts over shared breath and mumbled names passing between lips. Levi’s chest bestrewn with goosebumps, his eyes losing focus. 

Eren swallows. No, he really wouldn’t mind careful. 

“Maybe,” he admits, feeling aching anticipation tease every single one of his nerve endings.

Levi hums, fingertip running over the rim of his cup as his silvery gaze trails downwards to Eren’s lips, and it takes Eren a moment to remember the last chess piece in his grip.

Jerking himself out of his fantasies, he puts the white tower on the board, takes two pawns of each colour, hides them in a fist each beneath the table, and holds them out for Levi to pick a side. 

Smiling, Levi gives a chin jerk kind of a nod at Eren’s left hand. It contains a white figure, so they flip the board around, and Levi moves his first pawn two fields ahead.

Eren does too, Levi moves another pawn, and so does Eren. 

“How are the kids?” Levi asks. 

Pulling his gaze away from the sight of Levi’s slender fingers moving his knight, Eren refocuses on the game. “They’re okay. Rita says hi. Ian and Phillip are still quarrelling.”

“What was it this time?” 

Eren shrugs. “Don’t know. They shoved each other during class, so we separated them. We’re keeping an eye on it. They feel different than Jean and me. Less competitive somehow. Far more resentful.”

“Mm.” Levi nods. His right index finger traces the rim of his tea cup. The pad is barely touching the china, the finger bent in a gracious angle. His black hairs veil the pale skin on the back of Levi’s hand, his wrist, and his muscular forearms. 

Trying to pay it no attention, Eren moves a knight as well. He relaxes back into his seat cushion, meets Levi’s smile across the chessboard, and fights back any reaction whatsoever when Levi leans forward to take Eren’s first pawn without breaking eye contact. 

Eren retaliates by taking Levi’s pawn with one of his own in return, leaving his knight where it is. 

“Good,” Levi says, poking his foot against Eren’s. 

The prodding touch sends a warming stream up his thigh, rising further up his spine, into his arms, his fingertips before pooling in his belly in a gentle sweet flutter. He pokes back and smiles when Levi refocuses on the chess board, bottom lip pulling back between his teeth. It might be imagination, but Eren thinks it’s still a bit swollen from their snogging session in the kitchen. 

He feels for the new love bite on his neck, savouring the mild discomfort blooming on his skin when he presses down on it. Levi put it in the exact same spot where Eren’s prior bruise was while they waited for Magda’s chicken dish to heat up. When Eren closes his eyes, he can feel Levi arching up against him again, hot mouth sucking deep devoted markings onto his throat, grazing it with the perfect amount of teeth while his clever fingers rubbed lazy circles over Eren’s shirt-covered ribs. By the time Levi was finished, Eren felt like a breathless puddle of goo, and Levi looked so beautiful with Eren’s hands in his messed up hair Eren thanked him with plenty of tender kisses. He really could get used to prepared dinners. 

The dampened knock of felt against wood tugs Eren back to the present, and he shifts in his chair, clearing his throat. He blinks at the chess board, notices Levi’s bishop beside his advanced knight, and reaches out to move a pawn, stopping when Levi gives a small, disagreeing sound. 

Freezing in mid-movement, Eren thinks hard. He’s seen Levi perform this tactic so many times; he can do better than a random pawn. He chews on his lip, regards his figures, feels his cheeks swell with a sudden conclusion, and moves his second knight.

He knows he’s chosen well when Levi’s foot brushes his through two layers of woollen socks. Eren smiles, rewarding himself with another sip of tea and a brush back. 

“Distracted?” Levi asks, the firelight dancing on his sharp cheekbones as his lips curl in a knowing smirk. 

Sensing the rich tea steam condense on his face, Eren blushes into his cup, though he doesn’t avert his gaze. “A bit.”

“Mm. Should we stop?” Heat flares in Levi’s hooded eyes, waiting for an answer. 

The offer is tempting, though Eren shakes his head. “No.” He sets his cup back onto the coffee table. “I’ve missed this.” He grins before he adds, “I haven’t lost since Sunday.”

Tenderness settles on Levi’s face. A moment later, his toes grip a piece of Eren’s sock and don’t let go. “You’re not that bad.”

Eren’s churning stomach replies with an approving loud growl that mingles with his chuckle and the fire’s crackling in the hearth. 

Levi retrieves his foot and stands, hand carding through Eren’s hair as he passes. 

“Where are you going?” Eren asks, spinning his head to see Levi shuffle into the kitchen. He’s clearly trying to hide a limp. “It’s your turn.”

“You need more food first.”

Rolling his eyes, Eren is up on his feet and following Levi before he made the conscious decision to do so. It’s uncomfortable with his half-hard boner that’s more distracting now than nice. He rearranges himself and pays it no further attention. 

“It’s just digestion,” he says. “And I can feed myself, you know.”

Ignoring Eren’s protest, Levi opens the pantry with Selma’s drawing and the oak leaf on its door before he sifts through the shelves. “Apples or pears?”

Arguing won’t change anything, so Eren sighs to himself, rubs his eyes, and rolls up his sleeves. “Don’t mind either. I’ll wash them.”

“Hm.” Closing the pantry behind him, Levi emerges with an apple and a pear each. He steps to the working top near Eren and fetches a cutting board, a plate, and a knife, shifting his weight to his good leg as he waits. 

Holding the pomes under the running tap water, Eren frowns. It’s not that he gives himself the full blame for Levi’s old injury. Not anymore. During the past week, he’s given his best efforts to let his guilt go and try not to feel every zing in Levi’s foot as if a knife twists in his own heart. Most of the time Eren is successful. He doesn’t want to press on this matter too much. Levi is more than capable of taking care of himself. However, Levi doesn’t do enough in this particular case. 

When Briar mentioned his insomnia earlier, Levi scowled and accepted the various methods of treatment aside from the valerian infusion with nothing but a stoic nod and unspoken refusal. Yet the mention of his limp received an acidic stare.

“Do you want to stop chess night?” Eren asks. “We could have a bath.” A foot rub in hot, relaxing water might help Levi’s bad leg. It did so the last time. At least it seemed like it. 

“No need,” he replies, taking over the proffered clean apple while Eren continues washing the pear. Levi’s jaw looks tense, his expression closed off. 

Eren clears his throat. He doesn’t want to intrude where he isn’t allowed, yet Levi interfered with his symptoms, so he gives it a little push. They are both stubborn. “We should try the liniment Briar recommended.”

“It’s not that bad,” Levi replies, the knife in his hands slicing the apple as he cuts close around the core in calm, directed movements.

Humming, Eren turns off the water, shakes the pear dry as he thinks of how to best say what’s on his mind without playing the fair card. Not at this point, at least. It’s Levi’s choice whether he wants to let Eren take care of him as Eren allows it in return. 

“I don’t want my health to take precedence over yours, Levi,” he says, placing the pear into Levi’s outstretched hand before reaching for a towel. “And don’t tell me it doesn’t. You’ve been reorganising our lives around my symptoms the last two days. Including our future. I don’t mind. I know this is important to you. But you are important to me.” 

It’s Levi’s turn to sigh. Stopping in his task, he stares down at the halved pear on the chopping board. “Is this because of the leg?”

“No. It’s because it’s you,” Eren insists, drying his hands. “You shouldn’t be hurting for hours without end. No matter how bad or mild it is.”

A minute crease appears on Levi’s brow, gone again before it has time to settle. Contenting himself with the absence of a grumbled remark for now, Eren hangs the tea towel back onto its hook and approaches Levi to embrace him from behind. 

“Don’t worry over feeding me so much,” he says, pressing a kiss into the dark hair. “I’m not starving.”

“Says the bottomless food pit,” Levi replies, though his muttered comment is tinted with a mild smile as he continues preparing the fruit. “Even Sasha has plenty of competition for the last rolls in the pantry some days.”

“Fair enough.” Eren chuckles, admitting defeat. 

Despite his lack of hunger, the cut slices Levi arranged on the plate look appetising, like colourful little half moons. He reaches around Levi, and scrounges a tiny apple piece, crunching it with a satisfied hum as the flavourful juice bursts on his tongue.

Turning in Eren’s arms, Levi lifts a challenging brow. “Only digestion, yes?”

Eren grins, his mouth filled with apple. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t taste good,” he mumbles between bites. “See?” To make his point, he takes another cut and stuffs it into Levi’s mouth as he is about to protest, and is barely able to hold back a satisfied chuckle at Levi’s startled look. 

“Looks good on you,” he teases further and seizes Levi’s irritation by giving him a wet, smacking peck onto his temple. 

“I’m fine,” he promises, voice earnest now. “You’re spoiling me enough throughout the day. Probably just have to blow a fart or take a serious shit soon.”

“Erotic.”

Eren laughs. “You know it.” He bends down to nuzzle into the crook of Levi’s neck before nibbling on his ear. “Now come on and beat me at chess so we can fuck already. It’s our tradition.”

Levi snorts, leaning over to the sink to clean the knife. “Me beating you or the fucking?”

Leaving Levi with a shrug and one last peck against his undercut-stubbly nape, Eren takes the plate. “Both.”

After Levi poked the fire in the living room and added a fir cone to the embers whilst Eren refilled their tea cups, they settle back in their armchairs, proceeding with the game. 

Nudging the plate with fruit cuts back and forth, Eren smiles, thinking silence with Levi never feels silent. Or empty even. It feels more like a constant stream between them, animated by little movements, glances, and gestures. By the way Levi moves a pawn with quiet sounds before lifting his cup of tea to his mouth. By the way Eren can sense Levi’s smile when he follows with a pawn of his own. By the gentle knock of Levi’s cup when he sets it down. By the way Levi’s brows crease in a ponderous frown, and his slender fingers reach for a pear cut, while his leg stretches in an unspoken offer for touch. 

Eren accepts it with a small kick of his heart, enjoying every second. The slight shift in the atmosphere sets in again when Levi’s eyes light up, prickling on Eren’s neck and arms until his entire body tingles with anticipating energy like before. It blends with the resinous scent of the fir cone, the taste of roasted tea and juicy apples, the rich beeswax of Magda’s candles, and the tantalising sensation of Levi’s toes rubbing absent-minded patterns into the arch of his foot. 

“This is nice,” he mumbles when Levi moves his second bishop. “Relaxing too. Maybe I should suggest chess lessons for the kids to Hanji.”

Levi smirks. “Maybe I should set some games up in the café. Doubt it would help deflect the gossip though.” 

The tattlers must have gotten to Levi today. “Maybe card decks might help too,” Eren suggests before asking, “It was busy again? Apart from all the wedding questions, I mean.”

“Mm. Cake was gone by three.”

Aside from Eren’s own piece. So Levi did save him that one, didn’t just say it because it would go stale if left overnight. Not that Levi ever does. 

Eren doesn’t know why something so small as saving him a piece of pastry each evening makes him feel this fluttery, but it aches and warms from deep within. Looking across the coffee table, he swallows and meets Levi’s gaze, trying to convey what he doesn’t really have any words for. 

The faint flush rising to the pale cheeks is bewitching, and Eren revels in it, chest flooding with wriggling heat. The feeling increases when Levi upholds the eye-contact, and all Eren can think is how much he wants to stand and crawl into Levi’s lap. He’d brush the silky hair out of Levi’s face and devour him, taking him apart.

They’re still immersed in each other when the fire in the hearth cracks, sending glowing sparks into the air. Levi doesn’t look away. “Your turn.”

“Mm? Oh.” Refocusing on the game, Eren blinks, moves his knight, and leans back in his chair with a skipping heart, hand searching for the soothing touch of the fawn fur at his side. 

Leaning forward to consider his own move, Levi nudges his foot back against Eren’s to sustain their connection, and Eren smiles. 

It’s what makes him lose the game in the end, he thinks as Levi declares checkmate. Levi’s socked foot rubbing against his, toes poking, shin pressing. His quiet proximity painted in firelight and the moving shadows licking over his skin. His eyes that after an hour of playing started to rove over Eren’s body with a growing hunger. 

It doesn’t help that the candles are still adding to the flickering firelight, or that Levi’s fingers card through Eren’s hair when Levi rises to store the chess board away. Eren stares up, transfixed, reaching for Levi’s narrow hip to keep him close. 

“Hey,” he whispers. 

Levi’s flame-tinted eyes look at him, his fingers in Eren’s hair performing the automatic motion of brushing the strands out of his face to tuck them behind Eren’s ear. Desire flares up to set him ablaze, and Eren stands to draw Levi into a kiss, hands fumbling for fabric to pull his shirt out of his trousers in their desperate search for warm, smooth skin. Levi hums into their kiss, looking up at him as they part, running a finger over Eren’s neck and collarbones. 

“Dishes then bed?” Silvery eyes search Eren’s and ask the silent question what he wants. 

He rubs his thumbs over Levi’s stomach, smiling at the darkening pupils before he bends down to sink back into their kiss. 

“Yes.”


	13. Sunshine

Hearing it was all right to fuck Eren shouldn’t be this liberating. From the moment Briar mentioned it, though, Levi hadn’t been able to think of much else all evening long. 

It’s not that he wanted to hold off the past days. The sex the night before didn’t include much restraint—neither the fucking before dinner, nor the rutting against each other afterwards. Not knowing how to deal with everything whilst sticking to Hanji’s rule about rest, however. It worried him. 

The tightness settled in his chest on Monday morning and has increased since then. Rising up, up, up with every passing hour, until Levi felt the pressure below his throat. With every decision concerning Eren, the unease seems to grow. At least it did. 

He didn’t know how to best handle Eren in all this mess. Was it all right to talk about the lifespan? Would Eren accept what goes through Levi’s head when Eren bends over the toilet, retching? And if yes, what should he say anyway?  _ I can’t lose you. I lost you three times already, and am not strong enough to lose you again. Not like this. _ What if Eren laughed at that? What if he cried and started blaming himself?

_ I will fight for you.  _ Eren knows that already.  _ I will protect you as best as I can. _ Eren knows that too.  _ I love you.  _

What difference would saying all these things make? Another promise of the same words Eren already heard. Just words, not big enough to express his feelings anyway. They sound wrong in Levi’s ears. Insufficient and dull, soft. What he feels—what he’s felt since he knew he couldn’t escape this—is everything but mild. 

Levi also needs Eren to understand all this. He needs him to know how he makes him feel. How much Levi basks in his dimpled smile, and the look in his eyes. How comforting his body is, how healing. How blissful it is to hear Eren’s moans and sighs when Levi touches him, kisses him, or is inside of him. He needs Eren to comprehend how he thrives upon his touches in return. On his kisses, the feeling of Eren fucking him, arms slung around Levi as he peppers his coveting skin with smiles and laughter. On the look in his eyes as they send each other over the top. 

Levi needs him to know how wonderful it is to slip into the dark embrace of sleep afterwards, feet tangled, skin smelling of sex and soap. Of Eren. Of them both. 

He never thought showing all this would break Eren. Not really. Eren is strong. Emotionally he is the strongest person Levi has ever known. But what about himself? 

Showering Eren with affection, with kisses, embraces, and caresses wherever Eren wishes or doesn’t even know he wants them is one thing. Going too far, though, risking Eren demanding him to stop; Levi isn’t sure if he could do that once he started losing himself without breaking. 

Eren needs him to be strong. It’s how it’s always been. It’s all Levi has to offer aside from the roof over their heads and a life that—homespun as it is perhaps—is all right and comfortable. 

Knowing Eren wouldn’t break. Seeing Eren blush at Briar’s suggestion, abashed without being appalled, blinking at Levi through concealing fingers with darkening eyes. Learning intimacy wouldn’t harm him. Hearing it would even be good for Eren to be coddled without hesitant restriction. It unhinged something. 

It made kissing Eren easy again. It made it right to press him against the kitchen counter next to Levi’s horrible drawing of a bird that Eren adores so much, for whatever reason. Every time Levi catches him looking at it, his eyes become soft, and a quiet smile lights up his entire face. Eren even added a pin to each corner to prevent damage after it kept fluttering with each movement of the door. 

If Levi had known Eren would keep and cherish it this much, he’d at least tried to draw it prettier. Not that it would have made much of a difference. But he can add memories of sucking a new love bite into Eren’s neck right next to it. He can press up against him, let Eren mess up his hair, and lose himself in Eren’s incoherent gasps vibrating against his tongue, sneaking around his chest. Perhaps it will claim Eren so deep, maybe it will settle in Eren’s heart as well. 

He can let Eren look at him afterwards, gentle and awed, as if Levi climbed up to the sky and brought down the stars for him. He can let Eren pull him into a kiss, and another, and another. Until Levi has to hold on to Eren’s harness for much-needed balance while his head swirls with Eren’s taste, and his entire being churns with abandon.

Briar’s no-nonsense comments about sex made it easy to look at him during dinner. To etch every bit of Eren’s existence into his memory over and over again. His movements, his lips, his hair, his expressive eyes. His fingers holding his cutlery, and his love bites—two old, one still shiny with Levi’s saliva and blooming in a spot where it will hopefully give Claudio an aneurysm first thing in the morning. 

It makes it easier to continue looking, to let go a little bit, to not feel like Levi must treat Eren with kid gloves, nor fear he will hurt him. The worry will come back, Levi knows that, can feel it in his nape, waiting to make him stumble. Yet he will enjoy this night. And he will make sure Eren does too.

Eren deserves to feel good. Deserves it for his mere courageous existence, for bringing light into Levi’s life. For filling their home with warmth. For loving chess nights together, and tea. For making Levi laugh. For understanding. 

Eren could have told Levi to fuck off when Levi let him in on his healer idea. He could have told Levi to keep out of it and insist he’s fine without any further help. All he did was roll his eyes, sigh, and promise to give it a try. Which he had. He answered every one of Briar’s questions with earnest openness. He let Levi feed him with peppermint infusion, told him it truly cleared his head with surprised little dimples pressing into his cheeks. A sight that made Levi pledge himself right there to make Eren forget his own name before they go to sleep. 

He prepared him well too, Levi thinks as they clean the dishes side by side, the tension between them calling him with wicked whispers. Or maybe it was the other way around all along; Eren with his bright voice and tender gazes winding him up until Levi is under the impression his skin is too tight and too wide at once. 

Eren’s proximity makes his senses expand. It enhances the prickle on his forearms as the bubbles pop on his hairs. The light splashing noises of the water when he retrieves the dessert plate sound like sighs. The air tastes of promise. 

Eren stands close. So close. His arm nudging Levi’s, his heat an effective shield against the cold winter night trying to press into the small kitchen through the window pane. He sets aside the plate while Levi wipes the sink. Looks at Levi with wide, expectant eyes that throw all his cravings back at him with tender intensity. And despite all his intentions, every single one of Levi’s refined plans on how to seduce this miraculous man falls out of his head. 

Maybe washing dishes first was a bad choice, he admits to himself, but then Eren smiles, hooks his fingers into Levi’s belt loops, and pulls him near, nuzzling into the top of Levi’s head. “I think you owe me something.”

His neck is directly above Levi’s nose, and Levi brushes a kiss over it. “Careful?” he asks, needing to make sure it’s what Eren needs. 

“Whatever you want,” Eren replies. “I just want you to fuck me.” He bends down with his lips feathering over Levi’s cheekbones on their way to his mouth. “I just need you inside of me. I need you to tear me apart. You’re the only one I can lose control with. Please.” 

Shivers run down Levi’s spine, and before he has a chance to reply, Eren’s tongue slips into his mouth. Sweet and kind. Tasting like apples and pears, like roasted tea. Pouring out unspoken secrets. Filling up his chest with soft fluttery things Levi still has no name for.

Levi answers the kiss with a sharp exhale as his dishwater-wet fingers fasten around Eren’s gear straps. He presses close, unwilling to give himself up just yet, and licks back, feasting on Eren until Levi is in freefall and they’re both out of air. 

“Levi,” Eren mumbles, resting his brow against Levi’s as he closes his eyes, catching his shaky breath. Eyelashes fanning over his cheeks.

Since Levi loosened his hair before dinner, it flows around his face in unruly locks. They tickle Levi’s face, veiling them both from the world as they envelop Levi in Eren’s scent so strong Levi thinks he can walk on it. 

He wishes he could hoist Eren up his arms and carry him to bed. Yearns to spread him across the mattress. Bright, young, exquisite. Yet Levi’s foot has been cramping all evening, and he won’t risk Eren falling. So he presses a peck on Eren’s chin, and leads him by the hand, taking one of the lit oil lamps with them so he can see every little bit of what they’re about to do. 

In the bedroom, Eren closes the door behind them while Levi sets the lamp on the nearest nightstand. The metallic snap of a buckle announces Eren has begun to take off his harness, and Levi turns to help him with it. Needing to touch Eren. Seeking the familiar motion. The pleasure of peeling Eren from his clothes, layer after layer. The rapture of providing comfort, the gratification of Eren allowing Levi this. 

He holds the softening gaze and lets Eren assist in return. Lets his long, slender fingers slip button after button through the holes of his shirt and brush it over his shoulders. 

Fabric swishes, and clasps click as they continue, their shared breath adding to the sounds. Eren’s respiration has long become irregular. It’s making his chest heave and compress at a sigh from his lips when Levi’s hands slip under soft wool to tug his shirt over his head. 

The garment is barely discarded to the floor when Eren crushes his mouth back against Levi’s, humming with delight when Levi thrusts his tongue against Eren’s. Their feet move on their own, Levi stepping backwards as Eren presses them towards the bed. Crawling over Levi as they arrange themselves on the cool linens. 

Eren lowers himself, bestrews Levi’s face with feathery kisses as his hair cascades around them both, confining the world until it’s reduced to this single room. To the bed. Eren moving over Levi. Eren’s warmth radiating down on him, concentrating where they touch. Levi’s pulse drumming in his throat. The flickering flame of the oil lamp illuminating Eren’s chiselled tanned skin. Eren’s sighs. His rippling muscles. The sensation of Levi’s nerve endings brimming with need. Eren’s voice whispering into Levi’s ear, dark and velvety and hot. 

“Let me make a mess of you first,” Eren pleads, catching Levi’s hands with his own to intertwine their fingers as he presses them into the pillow beside Levi’s head. “I want you to moan and scream my name.”

Legs sliding open to make room for Eren’s body, Levi shudders, eyes narrowing for a second as he smirks. “I thought you wanted me to take you apart.”

T humbs rubbing over Levi’s hands, Eren smiles. “I do. And you can fuck me all you want later, but I will take care of you too. You’ve been so good to me today.” 

How can someone who blushes with mortification at the mere mention of love bites, sex, and mild innuendos say things like this without so much as the bat of an eyelash? And how is it possible it unravels Levi as it does? 

Whatever the reason may be, Levi should never have allowed Eren to know what his voice and praise does to him. He tries to flip Eren over, but Eren counters his feeble attempt, rolls his hips against Levi’s, and fuck, Eren is hard already. 

Locking eyes with Eren, Levi huffs, yet Eren isn’t done talking.

“You get your turn,” he promises with sparkling eyes. “Let me go first. Please. I need to show you how good you are. How kind. I want to show you how much you mean to me.” His fingers slide out of Levi’s grip, lightly trailing down the inside of his arms until Levi’s skin is searing, hungering for more. So much more. 

Eren’s knuckles trail on, caress Levi’s collarbones, his throat, his cheeks as his voice assumes a minacious hue, so in contrast with his feathery touches. “Holding back thinking it helps me—do you even know what that does to me? It hurts.”

One hand resting on Eren’s narrow waist, Levi  tucks some hair behind Eren’s ear. “You and Hanji said to keep you resting.”

Blue flames flash in green eyes for a second, thrilling Levi through and through. Speeding up his pulse with drunken ardour. Making his cock press against the restriction of his trousers as further words falter in his hitching throat. His palms run over Eren’s back and stomach, ready to catch any emotion Eren is willing to give. 

“If you want me,” Eren rumbles against his mouth, “I don’t need you to hold back. I can take it. I will. Because I want you too. All of you. Your strength. Your heart…your gorgeous, gorgeous heart.” Eren’s nose nudges against Levi’s before he delivers such a slow and languid kiss it tears a raw whimper from Levi’s chest as his greedy fingers dig into Eren’s broad shoulders.

“You hear me, Levi?” Eren growls, bringing his lips to Levi’s ear while Levi gasps for breath . “I crave every bit of you. I ask you to overpower me. I dare you to. It makes me feel good. Like I’m worthy. Your deserving.” 

Levi trembles while his muscles stop working as they should. They snap forward, spin them around, and Eren’s laughter rips through the air as his back slams into the mattress. 

“Yes!” he cheers before Levi kisses him deep, tongue thrusting into Eren’s mouth, hands mapping Eren’s chest, his face. Groaning his frustration when Eren rolls them back over, grinding his hips against Levi’s to keep him in place. 

“Still my turn. Do you even know what it means to know I can kiss you whenever I want?” Eren asks, hands holding him in place while his hair caresses Levi’s face and neck, not quite like kisses, yet heady all the same. “What it does to me when you make sure I have a good day?” 

“Eren…” he starts, interrupted by a shiver when Eren’s heated hum sends pure pleasure across his neck.

“Do you understand what it means to me to have such a wonderful,” his tongue licks over Levi’s ear, “wonderful lunch? Could you feel me smile this noon? Did you feel me think of you? Because I did, Levi. I wished you were there with me. I dreamt you were there so you could fuck me right there in my office. Hard. And then I’d snuggle into your arms before going back to classes; with you still dripping out of me. With your markings on my skin.” 

A mewled sound bursts from Levi’s throat, and Eren catches it with a bruising kiss before making his way down Levi’s neck, teeth threatening pain whilst ghosting over Levi’s Adam’s apple. Soft lips nibbling on his collarbones. Tongue leaving hot-wet-affectionate trails on his nipples that harden under the sudden chill when Eren moves on, making Levi hiss and shift his hips to grind into Eren’s stomach as his fingers clench in Eren’s hair.

Eren’s hands warm Levi’s arms, his stubbly chin scratching over Levi’s sternum, his abdomen, his groin when Eren’s nose dips into Levi’s belly button. Near-ticklish sensations make his muscles clench and shudder while an exhilarated wheeze breaks free. 

Green eyes lighting up, Eren’s kisses trail further over his hips down to his lower belly where Eren’s teeth catch the waistband of Levi’s trousers with a frisky chuckle. For a moment he smiles up at Levi, then presses his mouth hard against Levi’s pants-covered erection, breathing sultry air through the fabric. Teeth teasing over the cloth-covered flesh pulsing in Levi’s pants to make Levi all the harder.

“Eren.” Levi’s head falls back. The ceiling starts to spin. Everything is bright in the dark.

Eren does it again. The urge to buck into that delicious pressure, to lose himself right here, just like this, is overpowering, and Levi twists his fingers in Eren’s strands to keep still. His hands let go, patting in silent apology.

Eren hums, nuzzling a kiss against Levi’s crotch before undoing his belt, unbuttoning his trousers, and sliding them down Levi’s legs. They land with a clack of the belt buckle somewhere at Eren’s back when he tosses them away, followed by Levi’s briefs. Then his hands stroke up Levi’s shins, his knees, his thighs, tanned fingers contrasting so beautifully with Levi’s pale skin. Gaze fixed on Levi’s cock. 

“I will lick you now,” Eren says. “I want to make you feel good.” His hair is all over the place from Levi’s tugging. His lips are wet and swollen. A blush colours his face, and his lust-blown eyes pin Levi in ways so earnest and insistent it sends another heated quiver through him as he nods. 

He barely has time to catch his breath before Eren’s scalding tongue is licking over his balls, mouth gently sucking on his testicles, the tip of his tongue hardening to perform maddening circles. Licking so thoroughly as if Eren was stroking Levi’s inner core.

Levi whimpers, hands scrabbling on the linens. 

“Yes,” Eren mumbles, upholding their eye contact. “I want to hear you.”

“Eren,” Levi gasps, jolting his hips into Eren’s too light grasp, and then moaning when Eren starts to slowly stroke his cock. “Shit.”

Eren’s hum vibrates through Levi’s balls, sets him on fire, making it almost too much to look, to see himself caught in Eren’s fist and mouth with his steadfast eyes observing his face. They dart over to Levi’s fingers clenching the bed sheets before snapping back to Levi’s eyes, challenging him to make a sound. To let go. 

Swallowing a soft cry, Levi presses his mouth shut, though it falls open at another merciless graze of Eren’s tongue, Levi’s own flicking out to moisten his dry lips. 

Eren pulls away with a sucking sound, wet lips curving into a smile. 

“I want more,” he says, and without any further preamble, he takes Levi’s cock into his slick mouth, swallows him deep, until Levi is engulfed entirely and presses against the back of Eren’s throat. 

“Eren!” His toes curl. Dig into the mattress. His hips stutter as Levi keeps his instinct to thrust under control, not wanting to give in to the call for release this soon. “Fuck…stop…”

His hands grasp Eren’s hair, yanking in silent warning, and Eren slows down. He releases Levi, performs a lovingly lazy lick over his cock, and then nuzzles into his crotch, inhaling deep, soft sparkling eyes fixed on Levi. 

“You taste fantastic. Do you know that?”

Fingers tangled in Eren’s golden-tinted strands, Levi swallows and pulls Eren up into a kiss, unable to stand the distance any longer. He can taste his own sweat amongst Eren’s desire, his devotion, his doting gentleness, and it sends him into a spiral of fervour so strong he will burst if he doesn’t give anything back. 

“My turn.”

“Okay,” Eren mumbles, relaxing so instantly into surrender Levi’s heart leaps at the unquestionable confidence. Enthralled. 

After slipping up the bed and nibbling Levi’s jaw in a breathless, toothy kiss, Eren drops beside him. He leans back, draws Levi over him, and groans when Levi’s lips meet his throat, followed by his tongue and teeth. 

Crouching over Eren, Levi takes his face between his hands, and lowers himself into a kiss, ignoring his erection pressing against Erens waist. He’s the one who will take Eren apart tonight, playing Eren’s body, slipping beneath his skin, laying open secrets, and making Eren cry and beg. Slow and rigorous. Thorough. 

He frees Eren from his trousers, gripping his neglected cock to give it one ache-releasing pump that has Eren groan before he tends to Eren’s feet. 

“You need new bandages,” he observes out loud as he unwraps the slightly torn gauze on Eren’s right foot, pressing his lips against each toe and the arch. 

Eren chuckles, wheezing so spirited the bed rocks beneath them. “You know what? I don’t give a fucking shit right now.” He mirrors Levi’s smirk. “Had other things on my mind lately. Remind me tomorrow.”

“Mm.” Levi kisses the ball of Eren’s blemish-free foot and places it back onto the mattress before he proceeds the same way with the other side. “Better,” he decides, watching Eren sprawled out on the bed, erect, lewd, radiant. Waiting. Releasing little, ragged breaths into the room. 

“Tear you apart you said?” Levi asks, skating his hand up and down Eren’s hairy shin. 

Nodding, Eren beams. “Yes.” He licks his lips. “Yes.”

“Mm. Careful.” 

Scuttling back over Eren, Levi sets out to explore Eren’s skin with kisses and feather light touches, starting on a spot behind Eren’s ear. Eren scent is so strong there, just the slightest inhale sending earthy sunlight into Levi’s lungs, underlain by the fresh air from Eren’s hair mingling with the scent of soap, clean sweat, and lust. Levi hums, blowing against the spot, and delighting in Eren’s head throwing to the side to allow better access. 

“Levi.”

Not enough.

His collarbones are responsive too. Striking hills and vales rising and falling gently under sky-kissed skin. They stretch up to graze Levi’s insatiable lips while Eren’s enthused hands knead Levi’s back, imploring Levi to stroll across the slopes, worship the rising hairs moving along his track, and get lost. Levi lingers, wallows in the view, and seals his stay by carving his name into his favourite spot with teeth, tongue, and lips, with Eren’s rejoicing filling up the air. Content with the result, Levi tends to Eren’s chest that calls him with its tunnel system of protective ribs, hidden treasures beneath quivering muscles, and the flat lowland of his stomach.

Eren’s mouth forms gasps and little sounds, coming from the depths of his throat and chest, filling Levi’s ears with joy as he wanders on. Using various levels of pressure to taunt and tease, to test Eren’s nerves until Eren’s shivers and squirms beneath Levi and his probing hands. 

He scouts further, deeper, lower, pressing his nose against Eren’s soft middle and allowing his eyes to fall close when the full essence of Eren’s arousal bursts in his head. 

“Levi.” Eren undulates beneath him, writhing, hips begging for friction, eyes inconceivably bright when Levi blinks up at him. So intense it’s like Eren placed a hook behind Levi’s navel and hoists him up into the air in one single, neverending lurch. 

“Sunshine,” Levi mumbles, caught. “Beautiful.”

Eren whimpers. “Levi, please. I–” He hisses when Levi scatters more kisses across his waist, his gasping, begging, urging interrupted by sudden laughter blazing up when Levi finds the two only ticklish spots Eren seems to have. Right on the inside of his hip joints. 

The clangorous chuckle shakes them both, pressing Eren’s cock hot and hard against Levi’s cheek as Levi bathes in the sensation of Eren’s mirth licking him all over. Shattering his restraint. If he hears more of this, Eren will send him over the edge. So Levi stops his sauntering and takes Eren into his mouth, tasting the salty arousal pressing against his tongue. 

The laughter breaks with an enraptured “Oh!” coupled with an upwards thrust of hips as Eren’s limbs start to flail, fighting for more. “Yes, fuck, yes…oh! Levi!” Close to losing it. 

Eren’s enthusiasm reduces to a drawn-out whimper when Levi pulls back, stretching forward to fetch the oil flask from the nightstand drawer. 

The hasty action sends a flash of pain up his leg, settling in his foot, and cramping enough to make him stop in his movement with a sharp intake of breath, unable to hide it. 

Eren lifts himself up on his elbows, lust-blown eyes wide with worry. “Levi?”

“It’s okay,” Levi says, one hand rubbing soothing circles over Eren’s stomach. He senses Eren’s gaze on him, feels the wordless offer to stop and rub his leg in the gentle hand stretching forward to stroke his arm. “Don’t you dare.” He smirks through the ache. “I’m old. Not an invalid.”

Eren rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “I told you I don’t fucking care. About either actually. But yeah, that talk will keep me going.”

Levi snorts, wheezing through another spasm. “Brat.”

“You love it,” Eren retorts.

They smile at each other, waiting for the pain to abate. It does, and Levi relaxes back between Eren’s legs, unbottling the oil flask. 

Eren sighs and resumes his waiting position on crisp white bed sheets. 

“Levi,” he says, continuing where they left off. “Hurry.”

Soon his fingers are slippery with oil and surrounded by Eren’s tight heat. He doesn’t need too much preparation, opening up with ease, and as Eren wails at a nudge against his prostate, Levi thinks this can only be a good thing.

“Please.” Glistening eyes look at Levi. “Please. Please hurry. I need you so much. Fuck me.”

Every little cell within Levi seems to tense in his haste to obey the call. Fingers retrieving, he reaches for the oil again. “I will.” His knuckles brush over Eren’s cock, feeling it twitch into his touch as he applies oil to it. 

“Levi…?” Eren asks, blinking down and swallowing hard. Gaze slightly out of focus.

“Just slicking you up too,” Levi replies. “Feels good?”

“Yes,” Eren says. Smile swaying under his rapid breath. “So good. Fuck, so good.”

Managing a shaky smirk, Levi covers himself with oil as well. He aligns himself, and after ensuring himself once more Eren is loose enough, he pushes into the puckered opening that claims him in an instant. Hot. So hot.

“Yes!” Eren cheers, legs snapping up to wrap around his waist. “Levi.” 

“One moment,” Levi breathes, stilling on his way in. “Don’t move.” 

It’s almost too much already. 

Eren’s heat. Eren’s pull. Eren’s voice. Eren’s sight. Eren’s cock. Flushed. Hard. Glistening. Tanned, sweaty skin glowing in the dim lamplight. Green eyes blackened with lust. Soft palms mapping Levi’s back with confident strokes. Feet pushing into the small of his back in desperate search for more leverage and depth. 

Willing himself to remain focussed, Levi wishes they could kiss like this without Eren having to bend into a very uncomfortable angle. Eren seems to have similar thoughts as he stares up, eyes looking at Levi’s mouth as he wets his own before biting on his bottom lip, though he remains where he is, shuddering and breathtaking. 

“Good boy,” Levi says, inhaling deep, closing his eyes for a moment as a tremble runs through Eren. 

The cool air around them is biting on Levi’s burning skin, teasing every single one of his nerve-endings into desperate longing. His racing pulse is a steady beat in his ears, too loud. His oil-slicked hands don’t know where to hold on to, settle on the jut of Eren’s hip bones only to decide to trail further on their own. Roaming over Eren’s heaving ribcage, his trained arms, his flexing abdomen, anywhere they can touch. Yearning to give pleasure.

“Levi,” Eren whispers, fingertips sending prickling trails over Levi’s face as they wipe his fringe out of his eyes, and Levi needs to close the distance. 

Moving with deliberate care, he lowers himself onto his elbows, right hand brushing over Eren’s chest in search of the right place before he begins to suck on a spot beside Eren’s left nipple. 

“Oh!” Exulting a stifled cry, Eren arches up, hands shooting into Levi’s hair to press Levi’s mouth closer against his chest. His muscular thighs squeeze around Levi’s waist to keep him inside, to pull him in deeper. Demanding. Begging. His trapped cock pulsates against Levi’s stomach. Incoherent words spill from his mouth, beseeching Levi to continue, and all that keeps Levi from thrusting into that incredible body is the powerful drum of Eren’s courageous heart speeding up against his lips.

He finishes his task with a final nip of his teeth and a doting kiss against the spot before he leans back to appraise the outcome, caressing the blooming bruise with a zing of perverted pride.

A sound from Eren makes him glance up to meet eyes so shining-bright-perfect Levi’s composure slips, dissolving into dedicated exposure.

Levi gulps. “Eren.” 

See what you’re doing to me? Do you know how it feels when you stare at me like this? Like I did something right. Like I’m the only truth you need. Do you even know how fucking beautiful you are? 

He wonders if it all stands written on his face since Eren howls, pushing up and down against Levi as his chest laces with goose pimples. They trail on, move down Eren’s flat belly and up Levi’s spine, sending another shudder through him that coalesces in the pit of his stomach. Demanding Levi to move. 

“Okay.” He tightens his grip on Eren’s waist and obeys. 

Eren’s lips part in a hoarse “Oh!” as Levi eases his way out, then in again. Further and further. Deepening his thrusts as he finds an agonising rhythm for them both, determined to hit the right–

“Levi! Oh fuck, yes. There. Right there! I…oh!” Eren’s unsteady hands seize Levi’s hips, greedy nails biting into Levi’s skin. “Don’t stop. More. Please.”

“Hm.” Gritting his teeth, Levi answers the call. He slides out to push in anew, holding on tight to the thinning thread of his self-control as Eren’s head lols to a side, exposing his taut neck and the soft underside of his chin. His cheeks are flushed, goosebumps still ripple over his skin. His fingers twist in Levi’s arse, his hands alternating between gripping on tight and letting go. Levi can’t breathe. 

He reaches for one of Eren’s hands that accepts the connection with a clasp so wonderfully tight Levi picks up his pace. 

“Yes. Levi,” Eren gasps, squeezing Levi’s slippery hand. “Levi.” His eyes lose focus behind fluttering lids before they fix on Levi again, as if Eren held on with everything he’s got. “Go on.” 

“Yes,” Levi says, mesmerised by Eren’s untamable beam.

His cock looks as though he’s close, swollen and bouncing against Eren’s stomach with every slapping snap of Levi’s hips. The oil lamp on the nightstand caresses the sweaty skin with lit flecks of gold and flickering shadows. Levi’s free hand wraps around the neglected flesh, glides up and down, and Eren writhes, losing control. 

“Levi! Levi. Levi. Levi, yes. Oh, yes. Yes. More.  _ Yes! _ ” Eren’s fingers clench tighter, his voice breaks in a drawn-out cry, his love bites start to steam, and a heartbeat later, he comes into Levi’s stroking fist, powerful, hot, hard. Tightening around Levi. Too much. Perfect.

Eyes fixed on Eren’s smile, Levi gives himself over, surrenders to his movements, the rhythm, the rut. Lets the thread snap until there’s no return. As he bolts towards the edge, Eren’s thumb brushes his hand, inviting him to follow and fly. To leave everything behind.

Levi loses ground. 

 

*

 

“Thank you for trying Briar,” Levi says when the world fades back in. 

Eren chuckles. A sated, bright little sound. “Wasn’t too hard. All I had to do was answer her questions.”

“Mm.” 

Eren’s faith in strangers has always fascinated Levi. It’s hard enough to share your health problems with someone you know, someone you trust. To spread every tiny detail, every compromising weakness, out for someone you met five minutes ago is something different. 

At least Arne brought someone capable. What she’ll be able to accomplish will have to show. It’s a start, however. Better than being stuck behind the counter all day long and bemoan the changelessness of things. If Briar manages to keep Eren’s pain in check, if she can help with the worst symptoms alone, it’s already more than doing nothing. More than sitting and waiting.

Levi shivers, frowning in mild protest when Eren stretches to wrap the blanket around their legs and midriffs. They should leave the bed to clean up properly.

“One minute, please,” Eren says before Levi has the chance to object out loud. “Just a minute.” Another chuckle shakes them through. “Doubt I can stand right away anyway. I think I left myself there for a moment.”

Snorting, Levi kisses his ribs and for once can’t bring himself to move. “Then I did my job,” he says. 

Eren laughs. “So you did.”

Levi holds on tight. They are filthy, sticky, and sweaty, and yet Eren makes him laugh. Makes Levi want to stop time and just stay here. Makes him rest his head on Eren’s chest and even smile when Eren’s hands continue their gentle caress on his back in wordless thanks. As if Levi gave Eren the world.

“Don’t hold back anymore,” Eren says. Though his words sound easy and carefree, there’s a hint of regret in his voice. “Don’t you dare. Or at least ask when you think you should. We’re done holding out for the other. We did that enough.”

He’s right. Closing his eyes with a nod, Levi drags in Eren-scented air and allows himself to be warmed and held. 

Eren is truly real. He’s here. They both are. Levi will do anything to protect this. 

The talk with Eren in his staff department comes to his mind, and Levi holds Eren close. He never wanted to force a big wedding on Eren. Until a fortnight ago, he never even dared to hope Eren would want him this way. In fact, Levi never dreamt about marrying anybody. It never seemed a realistic prospect for him for various reasons, even the absence of possible candidates aside. Yet here he is. With this stunning, breathtaking person in his life, after all this time, after everything that happened. There is no way in the world he wouldn't go for this man. 

It’s clear marrying Eren somewhere in private won’t be entirely possible. But whatever will happen, it will happen on his and Eren’s own terms. 

He won’t parade Eren around like a trophy. If Eren’s health should worsen, Levi won’t even let a single person be part of this whole thing—except for Hanji, and Eren’s family should Eren want them there. 

If that means leaving everything behind to spend their few days left as fugitives…marrying Eren in a cave somewhere and spending a few precious crumbs of time together…so be it. Fuck the world and all its people. If left without Titans, they’ll find other ways to kill each other with. Even the Titans themselves were created by humans. So what would it matter if Levi gave Eren the end he deserves should things turn to utter shit? 

Eren is so strong, always has been. He’s earned every bit of right to die a free man. Which doesn’t mean getting eaten to preserve a peace that won’t last forever anyway. Humanity is too cruel and sanguinary to live happily for too long without seeking the next thing to kill for. 

Of course, Levi will ensure they will have everything they want and need for a life here. This is their home. The first real home Levi has ever had. He’ll fight to protect it, but he’ll also ensure they are prepared for whatever outcome. He already started to plan backup arrangements for various scenarios, including multiple solutions for leaving their life here behind should they have to. Hanji would understand if they vanished. Knowing her, she’d even follow in an instant, drop her entire life as she knows it, and only ask where they’d go and who she’ll be from now on. The thought makes Levi smile. 

“Do you really think there is a cure?” Eren mumbles into the quiet. “A better one than Hanji’s, I mean?”

Levi blinks his eyes open to the oil lamp casting Eren into erratic light, and swallows. “No. Not yet.” 

Eren’s responsive hum sounds ponderous. “It feels weird to think so.”

Frowning, Levi runs his hand over Eren’s arm. It’s not weird. It’s realistic. And yet Eren has always been a helpless idealist. Levi stretches his senses, prodding Eren’s mood, listening to his heartbeat. 

He thinks of Hanji’s words and her mention about never stopping with her experiments. About how furious he was when she worked herself up into ramblings about a possibility to stop the Titan cells from spreading six years ago. He yelled and seethed at her for pushing Eren into experiments that only would wear him down more and more. That maybe even would shorten the years Eren had left. On some days he hated her for it, and himself for allowing it to happen. Never giving up, always searching, trying, testing. On and on and on. And then she forged the serum. 

No, Levi never thought she’d give up searching for more. Not really. Yet he never allowed himself to dream or even think about it much. It would only end in disappointment. Eren knows this, but him asking whether it’s foolish to think in reasonable terms means something is awry. Whatever causes Eren to doubt in hope, Levi has to fix it.

“Doesn’t mean we should stop looking,” he says. 

“Hm.” There’s a peaceful silence before Eren speaks on, voice light. “Will be interesting when Hanji and Briar meet next week.”

Imagining that combination for the second time that evening, Levi snorts. Briar's passion for her field of interest, plus her resolve to not only help Eren with the symptoms but actually cure him of the Titans altogether makes her sound like Hanji. So much, actually, Levi wonders if he and Eren will even be able to get a single word in edge-wise once the two of them get going on theories and ideas. 

“Maybe we should lock them up for a while and have an undisturbed dinner somewhere,” he says. Briar strikes Levi as more grounded, yet Hanji most likely wouldn’t even notice they’re gone until morning.

Eren laughs. “Should I talk to Hanji about it tomorrow?” he asks. “And to Historia?”

“No.” Something hot and dark expands from Levi’s chest into his arms at the mention of Historia’s name. “I will.” 

A gut feeling tells him she will appear on his doorstep soon to talk to him alone anyway, and he can’t wait. He’s got a bone to pick with her. It’s bad enough she brought up the wedding topic in front of them both when she arrived. Confronting Eren with it again when she knows Eren is having a rough week, trying to outmanoeuvre him, to manipulate him into yielding. It’s unacceptable. She should know better than even to consider fucking with them. She should know Levi better. Perhaps it’s time to refresh her memory of who he is. 

As if he could hear Levi’s thoughts, Eren hums and kisses the top of Levi’s head. His warm palms stroke Levi’s back. Up and down and up again. Fingers feathering over the muscles on their way. His cock twitches against Levi, reminding him of their stickiness. 

Pressing another kiss against Eren’s ribs, Levi pushes himself up to disentangle from their embrace. “Come on. We can continue later. I don’t want your dick glueing itself to my stomach.”

“Mm,” Eren protests. His arms drop onto the mattress as Levi retracts from their grasp, fingers of one hand toying with his stomach as if making up for the loss while the other arm slings over his head, exposing sensitive skin. Twinkling eyes roam over Levi’s parting body, smouldering with unconcealed hunger when they land on Levi’s bare arse. Eren’s cock jumps, starting to harden.

A canine catches his bottom lip before it escapes in a lazy, mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind.” 

Of course, he wouldn’t. 

“You can’t fuck me in the shower if it does,” Levi says as he leaves the room, smirking to himself when shoved-away sheets announce Eren springing into action.

“Can’t argue with that,” Eren admits and follows Levi into the bathroom. 


	14. Tangled Feet

“How’s Hanji doing?” Levi asks, one hand stroking Eren’s forearm, the other resting on Eren’s nape. 

Dragging in the scent of fresh linens, soap, and Levi, Eren hums and pulls Levi closer into his embrace. After he followed Levi into the bathroom, their shared shower including round two was interrupted by a violent cramp in Levi’s foot. Despite Levi’s reassurances Eren should go on, he slipped out of Levi and announced they’d better go back to bed. Where was the fun in it when one of them was having pain?

Whatever it was that drove Levi to his ardour tonight, it seemed to exceed his discomfort. Once under the changed sheets, he pinned Eren into the mattress, kissed him deeply, and went down on him until Eren lost himself in Levi’s mouth, with stars bursting before his eyes. He managed to uphold the love bites, though. Regarding Levi’s efforts to make them disappear, Eren can’t help but be proud of his self-control. Just a little bit.

Now, with the soporific effect of his orgasms coursing through his veins in an elated rush, he can’t help but think that yes. Sex seems to be a recommendable remedy for almost anything. Or maybe it’s Levi. He always manages to make the infinite turmoil within Eren cease, even when the world around them rages and burns. 

As he ponders over Levi’s question, he idly wonders how he’s ever going to reciprocate. 

“She seems all right,” he says. Hanji’s tired eyes and constantly ruffled hair clearly show the pressure from the ongoing negotiations with Claudio. Yet whenever Eren crosses her path, she seems satisfied with how things are going. “Looking forward to the weekend, I imagine.”

“Mm.” Levi’s fingers find a strand of Eren’s hair to play with, making his neck prickle as quietness falls over them. “Hope she’ll make it over. She’s smelling bad.”

Eren wrinkles his nose in agreement. “Did you already talk to her?” After the topic first came up on Saturday, they decided to bathe Hanji as soon as possible, agreeing on this weekend for the sake of Hanji’s habitual Friday night visits. Regarding the graveness of the hygiene situation, Eren doubts Claudio’s visit at HQ changes anything in Levi’s plans, though it doesn’t make things easier for any of them.

Eyes looking at the ceiling, Levi gives a worried, almost distracted little sound that feels like a no. “She doesn’t much like getting notice long ahead. Makes her a lot more agitated.” 

“Do you think I shouldn’t I ask her if I can help then when she’s over on Friday?” Eren prods. “I don’t want to fall into her back with it. What if she doesn’t want me there?”

“What about the serum?”

“What about it?” Eren asks.

“You have to take it on Sunday.”

“So?”

“It won’t be easy to shower her, Eren,” Levi says. “You should get some rest instead of doing straining shit like that. I know how to handle her well enough. I’ve been cleaning her up for years.”

Recognising the deflecting tone even through his sleepy haze, Eren doesn’t take the bait. There’s no use to give into discussions about his fragile health that isn’t all that fragile. He also won’t step into the trap; defending to care for Hanji is neither straining, nor shit, won’t get them anywhere. Nor will he be guided into an argument by pointing out Levi’s cramping foot isn’t a good starting position for such a task either. 

“We have to do it soon though,” he presses on instead. “Don’t we?”

Levi takes another demurring breath that lifts Eren up a bit as his rib cage expands, but relents. “Yes. We do.”

“Then we’ll do it,” Eren decides before Levi can say anything else. 

Sensing Levi’s tension, his reluctance, his concern, Eren resolves to meet him halfway. He tightens his grip, hooks their legs, and rolls them over. Adjusting Levi’s position on his chest, he rearranges the blanket so Levi won’t be cold, despite the click of a tongue he earns for his efforts. 

“I told you I’d say if something is happening with the symptoms,” Eren promises, meeting stern grey eyes. “I will. But you’d drag her into the shower anyway, whether I’m here or not. At least let me help when I can. Even if Friday should be a bad day for me, I’ll feel better by Monday. Hanji won’t if we wait much longer. If I thought I could get her away from the Colonel, I’d bring her home tomorrow and get it done.” 

When Levi’s frown doesn’t ease, Eren sighs and adds, “I’ll talk to Connie and Sasha to take over the first-years in the afternoon, so I can come home early and rest. The second-years are busy with Una anyway.” 

Thanks to Hanji and Historia, Armin and he have a free day a month now in any case, he remembers. Better to spend it this way if it helps, plus… “Claudio won’t be able to say anything with the new half or full day off directive. It might even annoy him in all the best ways if I use it so soon.”

Levi doesn’t reply for a heartbeat, but then nods. “Okay.” Arms folding around Eren, his head sinks against Eren’s chest, his stubbly jaw scratching on Eren’s skin as he sighs. 

“The timing is fucking shit.” The admission is a mere mumble against Eren’s sternum, and despite Levi’s palpable worry slashing his insides, Eren smiles to himself. 

Levi always opens up best like this. When he doesn’t feel cornered. When there is nothing between them but naked skin against naked skin which is almost better than the preceding sex. It’s like the close physical contact Levi doesn’t much pursue during the day loosens everything he usually tries to keep to himself. It also makes him more receptive for topics he would fend off under other circumstances. As if the closed bedroom door could keep everything and everyone else but them out, creating their own secret space to admit to usually tight-kept concerns.

“It would be better without that fucking idiot nearby,” Levi explains. “It will stress her out even more. But it’s bad. I can’t have her getting so sick ever again.” A strand of his shower-damp fringe tickles Eren’s nose, and Eren brushes it away.

“We won’t,” he promises.

“Hm.” 

The atmosphere in the room remains heavy with unspoken things, so Eren shrugs, inhales, and presses out an unembellished fart. 

Levi stills for a second, tensing up in Eren’s arms before he wheezes into Eren’s chest, his entire body shaking with ill-composed laughter. 

Waiting for Levi to stifle his amusement, Eren grins in satisfaction. It even crackled. 

His grin makes way for a chuckled grimace, though, when he takes another breath. It hitches on its way in as heat shoots up into his head. “Whoops. Should I open the window?”

Levi laughs again, holding on tight. 

Caught up, Eren stays where he is and hides his smile in Levi’s hair. “Well. It’s your choice.”

“I can retaliate,” Levi huffs after a while. 

“Oh, I should hope so,” Eren says. “Imagine how dull and bloaty your life would be if– Ouch!” he protests when Levi flicks his nipple. “Anyway. You brood too much.”

Levi goes silent with a sigh. Although the mirth has left his embrace, it still surrounds them in tiny bursts of energy. 

Taking the opportunity, Eren presses on. “It’s all right. I know you can’t change that, I even admire you for it. But don’t shut me out on principle. I know whether I can help or not.” 

“You lack reasonable judgement in estimating your limits sometimes,” Levi mumbles. 

“I do not!” Eren argues, snapping up his head to scowl at Levi. He meets the challenging curve of a lifted dark eyebrow over a pair of twitching lips, and has to take everything back. Levi is right. Monday was proof of that enough. 

“Yeah, okay. I do,” Eren concedes, rolling his eyes at himself as he plops back into the pillow. “But I’d rather help you and not regret doing so, than the other way around. Plus, you can always kick me out if you’re sure it’s not good for me to be there. So please tell me what cleaning her will be like? I at least want to know what to expect.”

Holding Eren’s gaze, Levi takes a deep breath before he lets it out in a slow stream. When he speaks, his voice has a methodical and composed tone to it. “She will run like mad and go into a near blind panic. She will hit me. And you if you’re close enough to reach. She’ll shriek. She’ll cry. She’ll fight like crazy once she’s in the water.”  

“Okay,” Eren says, and Levi frowns, letting his head sink back against Eren’s chest.

“She’ll insult us,” he continues. “She’ll probably bring up Moblit. Cuss out Erwin too. It could be different though. She might freak out so bad I’ll have to knock her out so she won’t break her own bones. Depends on how much she trusts you when you’re there.”

“All right,” Eren says, stroking Levi’s back with a frown. 

It’s long since he last heard Levi speak like this. Nonchalant and precise, like he’s rattling down a tactic before a battle. The information reduced to the necessary and stripped of any kind of emotion since the slightest grain of compassion would distract and perhaps make any fight impossible. Eren isn’t fooled by it. He doesn’t need the stiffness in Levi’s muscles or Levi’s heart speeding up against his chest to know how Levi feels about this task. Neither does he need Levi’s fingers tapping on his side in a betraying rhythm, nor the hesitant reluctance Levi can’t hide from him. It’s Hanji’s wellbeing on the line here; and it hurts.  

“What else,” Eren prods.

Levi sighs. “She pissed herself a couple of times. Could happen again. She usually calms down a bit once I’m done scrubbing, but sometimes not.” 

Nodding, Eren presses his lips together. From what Levi told him so far, Eren only knew Hanji is terrified of water or hygiene or both. Hearing details now makes him feel cold, like a heavy icicle is settling in his guts while he lets Levi proceed. Levi has taken care of Hanji for how long now? Ten to twelve years? How many incidents have there been when he had to hurt Hanji for her own good?

“The pissing makes it worse once she realises she did it,” Levi says into Eren’s silence. “Probably because it’s me. Had to take her out a few times because of this so she wouldn’t notice. It’s bad enough as it is without additional hysteria. She shouldn’t have a fit about soiling my feet and clothes over something like this. It’s not like I can’t wash it away. It’s just piss.”

Stroking Levi’s back, Eren swallows as various scenarios form before his eyes. It’s hard to picture fierce, dauntless Hanji in such a terrified state she’d wet herself. Yet Levi doesn’t even bat an eye at the mention, so there must have been various cases. It’s probably why Levi has the bottles with strong alcohol cleanser he never uses for regular cleaning in the storage cabinet. 

Hot, prickling tears press up Eren’s throat as his fists clench under a burst of prickly energy somewhere in his chest, and he pushes out a restraining exhale. How could no one else care about Hanji this way? How could it be someone this strong and wonderful has to experience such emotional terror simply to survive? How often does Hanji stand in the bathroom, looking at her tub or shower, scared enough to decide it would be better to risk skin rotting disease over stepping under the gentle spray? What would she do without Levi? Would Hanji be dead by now? Would anyone care? 

As he tries to get his rising ire back under control and redirect it into pure, purposeful clarity, Eren clenches his teeth. Levi would care. Levi is the kindest person Eren has ever met. He’d do anything to protect a friend as close as Hanji, even if that means being the cause of their panic on a regular basis. It must be a lonely, horrible feeling for them both. At least Eren can help with that from now on. 

He will fight for it. Levi shouldn’t deal with this kind of problem alone. Even if Eren can only hug him afterwards, it will make a difference. Carrying a burden together is what they’ve always done anyway.

“It’s always been like this, you said?” he asks. 

Levi gives a little hum that sounds like yes and no alike. “Fright is the same. The dirt has become worse after Moblit died in that well. Before that, most I had to do was wash her hair. Ever since, I need a brush to get the cake off.”

“Better when one of us holds her then while the other scrubs her down,” Eren reasons, proceeding with stroking Levi’s back to help root him in the present. None of them likes to look back to the nightmarish aftermath of Shiganshina, let alone speak of it. “All right. It’s probably the best solution anyway.” 

Though Levi is silent for a moment, Eren can sense the shift in his shoulders that tell of relaxation. When Levi takes a deep breath to speak on, his voice is milder too if no less concerned. “She doesn’t like my usual soap for whatever reason.”

Two pieces of information snap together, and Eren understands. “That’s why there are the different-coloured bars in the bathroom cabinet? The blue ones.”

“Mm. She also prefers being wrapped in the extra big towel afterwards. And a whisky. With that she calms down quick, but sometimes she’s shaky for another hour and needs to cry out it.” 

Eren hums in understanding. “Like she does during the night.” It’s probably why Hanji always comes over on Fridays. So Levi can give her two days to recover if she needs them after a bath. The insight makes Eren’s heart clench, and he nuzzles Levi’s head. “I can handle all that.”

Though there is no reply, Levi’s fingers perform a tender squeeze on Eren’s arm in unspoken thanks. When he speaks again, the words come a little less grave, though their quietness remains. “How often was she visiting you at HQ?”

“Every couple of days normally,” Eren says. “Two times a week. Sometimes more. Sometimes less.”

Levi blinks at him. Once. Twice. Then his arms wrap tighter around Eren’s chest, his feet drawing up Eren’s shins in their search for warmth and contact. “When last?”

“The night you drew Selma,” he replies, thinking back. “She cried then too.”

Holding Levi close, Eren frowns as he does the math. Has it really been only three weeks since then? It feels so much longer with everything that has happened. Three long weeks, one entire week to the day with Hanji being on her own at HQ. He wonders if she’s been trying to visit him the past nights, too lost in her thoughts to remember Eren moved out until she stood before the locked door. She told him it was like this for a month or so after Levi left too. 

Recapitulating what they said that day and how he felt before pinning Selma’s napkin to his kitchen counter, Eren bites on his lip and suppresses a shiver, burying his nose deeper in Levi’s hair. There’s nothing to be found in self-reproach concerning what could, should, or would have been. He’s here now, and Levi’s solid weight is the impersonated proof.

“Sometimes I think I’m abandoning her by living here,” he mumbles against the top of Levi’s head, giving something in return for Levi’s candour. 

Levi’s right hand strokes Eren’s left side, supporting his words. “You’ve got to live your own life. We both do.”

“I know,” Eren says, fingertips tracing tentative lines on Levi’s shoulder blades. “And I know it's stupid. I’m still worried about her.”

“It’s not stupid.” Levi presses a kiss against his collarbone. “We’ll find a solution. Tom is probably on it anyway. If not him, Red will make sure she’s alright.”

Craning his head to look at Levi, Eren frowns. “What makes you say that?”

“A gut feeling.”

Fond amusement tickles his chest from the inside at the reply, and Eren rolls his eyes with a snort. Head flopping back into the downs, he sinks deeper into the pillow with a quiet puff of air streaming out of the linens. 

Eren wouldn’t put it past Tom, though—undoubtable loyalty aside—Hanji opening up to him as she does to himself or to Levi is something Eren can’t picture. Tom doesn’t seem to be the type of person you want to show your wounds to. Then again, Eren doesn’t see what makes Hanji trust him so much for that matter. So maybe he might be surprised. Admitted, Hanji not sharing everything with Tom doesn’t mean he won’t be able to help with feeding her and reminding her of basic things. Like keeping appointments, going to the bathroom, and getting much-needed sleep.

“At the very least, I can make sure she gets her breakfast,” Eren thinks out loud. “It’s needless for her to send someone to fetch it every day she can’t make it when I have to commute back and forth anyway. It’s quicker like this too.” 

He grins, feeling sudden amusement spark deep within when he remembers Levi entering Hanji’s office with some thermos flasks and an expression Eren will remember for the rest of his life. “Though she wouldn’t mind another evening delivery like yesterday,” he recalls. “Rita is sad she missed out on you too.”

A brief huff warms Eren’s chest, followed by Levi’s cheeks swelling against Eren’s ribs. “I can imagine. Did you tell anyone about the plan?”

“Only Rita. And I kept it vague. Told her to keep an eye on the gate after classes.”

“Mm.”

Smiling, Eren courses his hand through Levi’s undercut. He chuckles to himself when he remembers Rita’s joke and his promise to pass it on. 

He’s just about to ask Levi whether he even knows what a bullfrog is, when Levi freezes in his arms with a sharp intake of breath, drawing Eren’s attention down towards Levi’s face. His eyes are open, yet the deep creases on his brow and the way his rib cage expands in a slow deliberate motion before he releases the air hint at another serious foot cramp.

Scrunching his nose in sympathy, Eren averts his gaze towards the ceiling and gnaws on his bottom lip, running a soothing palm over Levi’s back. Maybe they should have postponed the chess and sex after all. Or at least cut the shower in favour for a thorough soak. Surrounded by relaxing heat, Eren could have rubbed Levi’s foot, tickled his toes, and thrived in the proximity he seemingly can’t get enough of. 

The ache in Eren’s chest is back, lashing out to tie his guts into knots. “It’s not too late for that hot bath,” he offers.

Levi’s leg shudders with another cramp as Levi tenses hard against him. So much for letting Levi deal with cleaning Hanji alone on Friday. Not happening. Regarding the way Levi has been hobbling all evening long, the pain must be worse than usual. The cramps most certainly are more frequent this night.

“Do you think tomorrow will be busy downstairs too?” Eren asks in need for something to distract them both. 

“Mm.” 

A brief, disgruntled wheeze puffs against Eren’s chest. It’s probably less because of the prospect of having many customers rather than because Levi failed to conceal the pain. 

“You don’t have to hide it with me, you know.” The words are out before Eren can rein them in, hanging between them. Making Levi stare at him.

Well, Eren thinks, looking straight back. He’s already started it so why not say it all? “I’m not saying to bitch and whine about it,” he continues. “I’m just saying you don’t have to hide it or play it down when you have cramps. Not up here.” 

_ Not with me, _ he adds silently as he holds the stern gaze.  _ I want to make it better. You take care of me, so let me take care of you too. _

He considers pressing further when Levi breaks their eye contact to rest his head back against Eren’s chest. His body slides more to Eren’s side as he snuggles closer instead of pressing down on him from above with his full weight. 

When he speaks his voice is mild. “Will be better when the shop calms down so I have a bit less racing around to do.” He brushes over the new love bite on Eren’s chest. “Things will settle soon when the first excitement cools off.”

Whenever that will be, Eren thinks. Levi has always been a hard worker without complaint, pushing himself further than anyone else. Except for Hanji perhaps. Though Hanji is different. Her science projects seem to come from passionate curiosity. Levi’s drive to power through and excel on the other hand has something unyielding to it. It’s something Eren always looked up to, and something he more than can relate to. It might be possible, however, the workload in the café is too much for one single person to handle alone. Even when that person is Levi. 

There must be a good solution for this. Like Levi ordering daily dinners during Eren’s symptom phases, or finding a competent healer to search for better remedies. Leading a café would be easier for Levi with someone to give him breaks, however long or short they may be. As much as Eren wants to help during the weekends, and will, he can’t split himself in two and assist during workdays as well. 

“Have you considered hiring someone part-time?” he asks, his fingers drawing tender patterns on Levi’s forearm, stirring up the hairs there. “Cafés, bars, and similar places usually have more than one person to handle the customers and split long work hours.”

“I don’t like others running my business,” Levi says. The words have no bite to them, muttered into the room in a simple statement.

Eren hums into Levi’s hair with an understanding kiss against the top of his head. He doesn’t like others doing his work either. If anyone would have told him a month ago he’d soon teach his classes in a team of two, he’d have been indignant at the mere thought. 

Still. “Connie and I make it work during class,” he mumbles, almost astonishing himself with the truth. 

Because they go along well together. They understand each other, know the other’s strengths and weaknesses after years of comradeship. Handling the sack of teenagers with someone to rely on throughout the workday makes so many little things so much easier. Connie takes the pressure off Sasha for part of the day, and himself as needed too. It will change again with the next year’s entrance Cadets, Eren supposes. There’ll be a third class to the two they already have. Which doesn’t change that the current situation is nice while it lasts. 

“In your case, you'd still run the café yourself,” he says. “But you could get someone to assist during the peak times. They can help keep up with dishes or watch the storefront when you need to visit the back room. Plus it gives you someone to glare at when they’re doing the cleaning wrong.”

Levi does glare, and Eren grins back, once more wondering how he never realised how much he loves this expression. It causes the hairs on his arms to rise whilst his heart flips in agreement. His blood shoots into lower regions, making his cock twitch against Levi’s thigh, despite his tiredness or his better judgement. He almost hopes Levi will ignore it. Two times is more than enough.

“And who would that be?” Levi asks, one eyebrow lifted, pinching Eren’s ear as he props his scratchy chin on Eren’s shoulder with glinting eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he admits, biting on his lip. “But there must be someone in town who could use a little extra income. Plus, if you don’t try to find someone, you’ll never know who’ll fit.”

Levi’s gaze softens, throat working around a heavy gulp that makes Eren’s stomach flutter. His silver eyes are two bright stars in the darkness, his legs firm and knobbly. His scent is everywhere, loosening Eren’s tongue. 

“All I'm saying is I’d like to take you out every once in a while,” he admits, fingers searching for Levi’s stubby jaw to explore. 

“You can do that now,” Levi reasons, his deep, affection-tinted mumble vibrating against Eren’s touch.

“I can’t when the sun is out and the stores and market stalls are open.” Digits dipping in the hollow curve behind Levi’s ear, Eren shrugs. “It’s different at night. Like I’m snatching you away from home. And it doesn’t help you with the workload you have during the early afternoon.”

Levi’s calloused palm slides up Eren’s arm before gentle fingers play with the strands in his neck.

“I’ll think about it,” Levi says after a while.

Nuzzling deeper into Levi’s embrace, Eren presses a smile against his brow. “Thank you. And now let me run that bath.”

 

*

 

It’s past midnight when they leave the tub, and as far as Eren can tell, the leg massage has served its purpose. As has the hot water. 

After rubbing Levi’s feet and getting his own rubbed in return, Eren ordered Levi to turn around and proceeded with kneading Levi’s hands. Despite the first muttered complaint, Levi relaxed. Somewhere along getting his left palm stroked, his breath evened out, and his head sank against Eren’s shoulder. 

Eren could stay like this forever, watching Levi doze, guarding his dreams, if not the water had run cold. So he kisses Levi’s temple, telling him it would be better to continue snuggling in bed. 

His unspoken offer to carry Levi earns him a smack to his head alongside a “brat!” but as he drifts off into sleep with Levi back in his arms, Eren decides the insult lacked any bite whatsoever. Furthermore, late night baths together really should be a new routine.

 

*

 

Thursday dawns with a steel grey sky and, though its ceiling is too thin for threatening snow, it promises not much sun during the day. Watching the town awake during breakfast with a mild new headache blooming behind his eyes, Eren can’t help but be grateful for no blinding beams. The nuthatches seem to not mind the bleak scenery either, and chatter on the windowsill.

A small gust of wind tugs on their blue coats, fluffing up their soft white downs. In response, they puff themselves up as they blink their beady black eyes, hopping on with unperturbed chirps.

“They’ll shit on the board again,” Levi says into his tea. 

Tearing his gaze away from the colourful birds, Eren snorts, swallowing a piece of pumpernickel spread with butter, goat curd, and honey. “It’s what birds do.”

“Mm.” Levi’s eyes reflect the morning outside, looking clear and almost rested. Whether it was the bath, the massage, the sex, or Briar’s encouragement they’ll get Eren’s Titan symptoms under control to help Levi slumber through the night, or a combination of it all, it certainly did him good. 

“How’s your head?” he asks.

Eren grimaces. “Could be worse. I think the herbs are helping though.”

“I’ll pack you a flask for noon.”

Sipping his mint and ginger infusion, Eren smiles, his heart performing a joyful little leap as the birds to his left dive into the world, in search of some crumbs to pick. 

Maybe they’ll even find Levi’s suet seed rings Eren spotted on the east side of the house’s facade during window cleaning on Saturday. Whatever Levi may grumble about them soiling the ledge, he seems to take efforts to keep them as tenants. 

“What’s on your schedule today?” Levi asks. “Same as yesterday?”

The brew sloshes in his cup as Eren sets it down. “Similar, yes. Second-years with theory lessons in the morning and more muscle formation with the first years after lunch.”

Levi nods. “You’ll come home if the migraine gets worse and you feel like shit.”

Taking a deep breath at the half order half question in the tone, Eren sighs. “Yes, I will.” 

He catches Levi’s gaze and rolls his eyes. “Connie will send me home anyway if I don’t. He’s very determined.” Connie’s reasoning comes to his mind, and Eren adds, “He said you’d kill him if he didn’t, and then Sasha would kill him too for making you mad enough to refuse her cake on Saturday.”

It seems to assure Levi enough to make a satisfied smirk twitch on his lips. “Good man. And I would.”

“Mm. No doubt,” Eren answers, meeting twinkling silver eyes over the dining table and smiling when Levi’s foot presses against his own in unspoken thanks. “So I can expect to see you at Hanji’s office tonight?” he asks, already looking forward to it. The knowledge of seeing Claudio scared out of his mind again soon is a good enough motivation for nearly everything. 

Humming, Levi takes a sip of tea. “With you taking half the day off tomorrow, yes. He needs a reminder I’m still a pain in his ugly fat arse.”

Eren laughs, feeling light at the prospect of walking home with Levi for the third evening this week. “He hates people are still calling you Captain, by the way. Maybe you should call me Sugarbear or something.”

“You wish, brat,” Levi retorts after a snort and reaches for the tea pot. “We’ll see. Refill?”

All in all, the day couldn’t start better, Eren thinks as he steps out into the cobbled street, another big care package for Hanji and himself slung over his shoulder. 

It proves he has to take the thought back, however, when he enters the grounds of HQ and is met by a multitude of smiling faces, waves, and animated “Good morning, Eren!”s. It’s topped by a beaming Sasha who, upon seeing him, dashes forward to hug him with a shout of joy. 

“Eren! What a wonderful day!” 

“Um…hello Sash,” Eren says, chuckling as she squeezes him tight before stepping back. 

“Did you hear already?” she asks, hopping on the spot. Her brown eyes are gleaming, her cheeks swollen with delight. “Claudio fell out of his bed during the night. Or rather, the duckboard collapsed.”

For about a second, Eren stares. Then the news sinks in, and he bursts into helpless laughter. “What?”

“Yup.” Sasha nods so fiercely her ponytail swishes in the movement. “He went to bed, and everything was fine. And then–” she makes a smacking movement with her hand. “Crash! I think even one of his vertebrae popped out or something. Hurt himself real bad.”

He shouldn’t be happy about this, he really shouldn’t, but Eren can’t stop beaming. Ever since the disastrous Monday, he’s been hoping, yearning, for something to happen to that idiot that in best case scenario would have him hurt. Bad. He never imagined this to happen, though, and whatever higher forces are responsible for this, he thanks them from the bottom of his heart.

“Poor guy,” he manages under heavy chuckles that seem to come from the depths of his belly as he tries to get his amusement back under control. HQ is full of Claudio’s people. He doesn’t want to get arrested for making fun of a superior officer. 

Sasha, however, seems to be determined in making him join in her glee. “Let me paint you a clearer picture since you’re definitely not laughing enough,” she says. “Or wait…no! Maybe Connie should. He can do it better. He’s so funny. Anyway. People are celebrating! The cook even hauled out the meat for lunch. I could smell it during breakfast…it will be fantastic.” Her gaze turns starry as drool runs down her chin. “I think it’s boar. Boar…”

Eren smiles. It’s almost a relief to know the world can change within a day, a week, or a month, but some things will always stay the same. “What are you doing out here anyway?” he asks as the thought occurs to him. “Aren’t you supposed to have gear theory with the first years this morning?”

Sagging where she stands, Sasha rolls her eyes. “Yes, but horse training turned out to be so horrible yesterday I decided to do the gear stuff tomorrow and do more horse care today. As long as the first knowledge is still fresh, you know? I swear, it’s wild. Some of them don’t even know they shouldn’t stare an animal in the eye if they don’t want to eat it. It’s like…basic instinct.” She looks as though that lack of knowledge is a personal attack, and Eren grins. “With a bit of luck we’ll at least finish the ride around the ground this morning.”

“Have fun with the lesson then,” he says, rearranging the bag on his shoulder with a grin. “I should hurry anyway to bring Hanji her coffee so I won’t be late for class.”

“See you at lunch! Don’t be too rough on the kids. And give Connie a kiss from me.” Sasha laughs and dashes off towards the stables, skipping as she crosses the court. 

“You can do that yourself, thanks!” Eren yells after her. 

In response she waves, and as he turns to deliver Hanji’s care package, Eren snorts with a shake of his head. Sometimes his friends have very weird ideas indeed.


	15. Gyokuro

Despite Levi’s assumptions the wedding gossip wouldn’t stop any time soon, it does. A fox has entered the local coop during the night, caused a hell of a racket, and killed a couple of chickens whilst injuring some more.

“It’s horrible, Captain Levi,” Ilaida, the miller’s daughter, says. “I saw it this morning. Blood and feathers everywhere. Auntie Marion is devastated. Olivia was her best layer, you see. Isn’t this how it always goes? The fox must have gotten in somewhere around ten in the evening. No one saw it cross the town border, but I swear I heard barking directly before the ruckus began…”

Levi hums, polishing the counter with round, soothing movements, and lets the story about what happened flow over him for the eleventh time that morning. For the second time from Ilaida as if once wasn’t enough. In his periphery, Katinka eyes the girl with curious disbelief, probably thinking the same. 

After delivering her weekly supply of goat curd, she’s been sitting in her favourite spot at the counter to indulge in some tea, cake, and human company. She finishes her cup with the second infusion of Oolong, and Levi refills it, emptying the pot.

“You can count yourself lucky you don’t have your own hens, Captain,” Ilaida concludes. “I bet the fox would kill them too. It always happens to the best.”

Gazing at her, Levi can’t help but think what silly deductions people come up with in a situation like this. He’s got a pair of nuthatches already. He doesn’t need additional chickenshit on his property. 

“Yes,” he says, trying to steer the conversation towards an end. “Do you need anything else?”

“You are so kind, Captain,” Ilaida replies, jerking into action to count off the money from the purse she’s had clutched in her hands for minutes now. “But no, thank you. I think I’ve got everything. Are you really sure it’s alright I take the thermos with me?”

“If you pay the deposit, yes.” He wants to accept the coins she holds out, but she retreats her hands again with a self-reproaching little “oh!” and searches for more coins as she continues her monologue. 

“Wonderful! That will make things easier. Mum has too much to do with helping Auntie Marion. They’ll be happy about an extra cup of coffee. Plus, yours is always so good. And the cake again! Norman keeps outdoing himself, doesn’t he?”

“Mm,” Levi says, taking the copper and silver pieces to put them into the till. “He is.”

“Well then, I’d better run,” she declares. “Father expects me back by ten, and I want to deliver the coffee as fresh as I can. See you soon Captain. Say hello to Eren from me, will you?” She is about to open the door but performs a little jump as she turns to fix Levi with a worried, commiserating gaze. Her voice goes quiet and heavy with concern. “Oh, how is he by the way? I heard he looked a bit feverish on Monday. Must have caught that cold going around, the poor one. I hope he’ll feel better soon.”

“He’s all right,” Levi says, forcing a tight smile and holding back the remark she’ll never make it back home in time. The clock on the market square already rang the hour when she started her second fox discourse. 

“Maybe you should cook Eren some chicken stock?” she suggests with bright eyes. “My mum and gran always make it for me when I’m ill. Works wonders, actually. And tastes good too. I remember that one time…”

While she drifts off again, standing in the entrance, Levi nods, listens, drags in one slow deliberate breath after the other, and counts. 

There are currently fifteen customers occupying the café. He already served thirty-four cups of coffee, six of tea, thirteen plates with cake, and handed over five bagels. It’s seven more hours until he can close the café and pick up Eren. Three more days until Eren can take the serum. One day and a half until Hanji’s shower. Eight days until Briar will be back and Claudio will finally be gone. He’s got two How to Make My Wedding Acceptable Plans to think over today, maybe a third. And Eren looked beautiful when he left the café.

Keeping up with his nodding, Levi looks at Ilaida’s mouth forming words, and wonders how people who talk this much get anything done throughout the day. He also curses Kenny for the lecture on keeping up with a conversation so well he can recite it later, no matter what, to gather as much information as possible. It’s practical and useful on the streets. Valuable to track down the right people to off. In here, however, it’s horribly dull at times, filled with details of sick beds and caring dogs and loving family members fussing over a kid who makes Levi’s ears ring.

He suppresses a sigh, eyes trailing off to the street and into the direction of HQ. Eren must be about to start his second theory lesson of the day. 

His gaze focuses when Diane passes the café. She comes to a halt at the door, gnaws on her bottom lip, and looks hesitant, right hand reaching for her left to twiddle with the fingers. Levi nods at her, and a careful small smile builds on her face as she waves before she pushes her hands into her coat pockets, turning to leave in the direction she came from. Two seconds later, she’s gone. 

Keeping one part of his attention on Ilaida, Levi frowns at the empty spot on the cobblestones. Diane lives in the south. Her playschool is in the east while the hospital, should her mother be there for a check-up, is in the north. Which makes the Sparrow in the west off the beaten track for her usual routes. 

“…so you see? Chicken broth is always good,” Ilaida finishes, oblivious to the silent exchange that just happened. “I bet Eren would like it too. Uplifts the spirit, you see?”

Levi waits. 

The turret clock outside rings quarter past ten, saving him from having to answer when Ilaida freezes with two spots of colour appearing on her cheeks. 

“Oh shoot! It’s this late already? Father will kill me for always taking this long. See you soon, Captain! And thank you so much again for the thermos!” She rushes off, the bell chiming over her head.

“I know why I have my farm on the outskirts of town,” Katinka says when the door has closed behind the girl. 

Levi snorts in sympathy though admits, “She’s not doing any harm.”

“No, but I still prefer my goats over this kind of talk.” Katinka’s green-grey eyes meet Levi’s from behind a curtain of greying blonde hair. “How’s the gossip been for you this week?” 

“As expected,” Levi replies. “It’s only Thursday though. So there’s potential. Doubt the fox will keep them busy for too long.”

Katinka’s wide smile reveals the small gap in her upper row of teeth. “Seems so. Even I heard some of the rumours. Lots of bullocks if you ask me. How is Eren dealing with it all? The talk must get to him.”

“He handles it well so far,” Levi says. 

Nodding, Katinka blows on her steaming Oolong, disturbing the amber-coloured liquid in the cup. “Don’t let it get you down, you two. They’ll find something else to gush over soon enough. Evelyn and Norman mentioned you had a busy couple of days because of that newspaper article. Stinks if you ask me. If you need anything, let me know.”

Levi hums. “Thank you.”

She rearranges her position on the barstool and rubs her side.

“How are you coping with the weather?” Levi asks. Her hip must trouble her at least as much as his leg. 

“Fucking shit, but what can you do. Winter’s always the worst. The ointment you sent me a few weeks ago is a godsend though. Makes it so much easier to chase after Rikka.” Her eyes assume a besotted gleam. “I tell you that goat has a temper of its own. So thanks again.”

Levi nods. “Good.” 

Despite his first reluctance to leave the bed for a midnight bath, he’s been feeling better today as well. He experienced a couple of cramps since he woke up, yet in comparison to yesterday, they are a mere discomfort instead of paralysing spasms, and over quickly too. A smile wants to slip out at the thought of big hands massaging his feet, legs, and hands in hot steaming water. He tries to contain it, yet Katinka puts a spoke in his wheel. 

“So how many of the tales are true if you don’t mind me asking?” Her clear eyes sparkle under a wink. “Should I congratulate you, Mister Stunning Personality?”

There’s no help for Levi, and the smile bursts out. “Not yet,” he admits. 

“Mm,” she says, shooting Levi a conspiratorial glance. “Don’t look like not yet to me. You’re having secrets. Anything plotted already?”

Levi snorts. He does, but not even Eren knows about his plans yet, and he has no intention to share any of them with anyone else. 

“The more they press, the more they can wait,” is all he gives away. It’s not as though Katinka is set on details, he muses. She isn’t one to pry beyond some friendly bantering. 

Sure enough, the comment makes Katinka bark a laugh. “I like that tactic.” 

“Hm.”

A few seconds of tea drinking silence pass before she continues, voice candid and warm. “I’m glad he came through, Levi. He does you good. One can tell.”

Though Levi says nothing to that, he meets her gaze and knows he doesn’t have to. She may prefer the company of goats over that of humans these days, yet Katinka isn’t stupid and has keen, sharp eyes. 

Her mitt-covered hands wrap around her tea cup. “Listen to what you both want in this matter. It’s more important than what everyone expects you to do. You do what you both need to do. People will get over it.”

After three full days of people telling him how to behave in this situation and pressing their opinions on him, Katinka’s words are more than refreshing. The tone in her voice even implies it isn’t an advice, but more a neutral statement, if not an encouragement, and Levi can’t help but agree. 

“You already know, I think, but you can’t make everyone happy anyway,” Katinka continues. “They’ll always argue over something. And as far as I’m concerned, you and Eren both already did more than enough for any of us so we can respect your wishes. It’s a private matter. It should be private too if that’s what you want. Pox on the hero status. It doesn’t make you different. It shouldn’t.”

Levi lifts an eyebrow. “General belief thinks different.”

“Fuck them. They always blow marriages up like mad, and afterwards they say they knew from the start it would end bad when it does. Remember Lars and John?” 

Snorting into a sip of tea, Levi nods. “Kornelius still isn’t over that.”

“Well, fuck him too.” Katinka rolls her eyes. “John is such an attention whore, maybe it was about time it blew up in his own face. David at least makes Lars smile. My point is, it’s hard to find someone who fits and accepts us for what and who we are, isn’t it? We should seize it when we have the chance. And marriage…” She shrugs. “It’s just a piece of paper I never much cared about either. I’m glad I said yes to Willa though. Even if we only had a few weeks in the end.”

Humming, Levi puts the sieve with unfurled Oolong leaves back into the empty tea pot. Willa has been dead for two decades after losing a long and gruesome battle with consumption. Katinka says after that she lost the interest in romance. It simply was too exhausting to keep it up, and after Willa, no one felt worth the trouble. The goats are her passion now. The goats and her farm with the cheese dairy, including the adjoining bakehouse. Levi has a feeling Katinka has an open carry-on with the baker there, but never asked. It’s none of his business.

“I’ll never forget that smile on her face,” Katinka says. “Didn’t even matter she coughed blood during the ceremony. It’s not what I see when I look back. I doubt the horrible moments during the war is what you focus on when you think of Eren either.”

Starting on the third infusion of the Oolong, Levi nods. “Not always, no.”

“Must be different in your case, I assume,” Katinka concedes. “When you see enough of the world, you know all the good stuff doesn’t come without the crap, just as the other way around. Keeps it interesting though.”

Levi hums, drinks his tea, and silently agrees. 

By the time Katinka slips from her barstool and declares she “can leave the goats in Gary’s care for only so long,” the third pot of Oolong is empty, and the matutinal peak time has abated. For the first time in days, it’s almost blissfully quiet in the café, even with the family of three sitting at their usual table, doting over two-year-old Vigga who is currently painting the tabletop with bright-coloured wax. 

She laughs and squeaks, mumbling about snow to her parents and setting aside the crayons every now and then to chew on her bagel. 

Seizing the unexpected reprieve, Levi clears the counter and goes into the staff department to wash the dishes. 

The sink is brimming over with cups, tea pots and coffee carafes, with plates, silverware and tea sieves, all soaking in bubble-free dishwater that has long run cold. Pulling the plug and filling the sink with fresh, hot water, Levi adds some soap flakes and starts the experienced task. 

Eren is right. It would be good to have help in the café. At least during peak hours. Mornings always mean a rush of people who need their breakfast or a snack to go. Lunchtime is mostly quiet on regular days, though the afternoons bring a crowd of coffee or tea time votaries in search of a hot beverage and a sweet treat to accompany it. 

He never opened a café to have it empty. If anything, the incoming people keep Levi busy and distracted from running up the wall, especially during a stressful time like this—with Claudio befouling the air in town and threatening everyone Levi cares about. Levi would go mad without their demanding chatter, their stories, and besides; it is nice to have a business that runs well. Nonetheless, the long opening hours he once set in need for self-diversion so he wouldn’t have too much time on his hands to think about Eren’s absence start to take their toll. 

Eren is back from exploring now, has been for over a year, and yes…it would be good to go out into the streets during daytime together. Not only to pick him up from work, but to see the sunshine on Eren’s face and the open sky reflect in his eyes. They even could go out on the weekend, and with Eren’s condition, it would be better to give Eren some repose on work too, no matter how much he wants to help Levi. 

So where to start?

If Levi publicly announced he was looking for someone to assist in the Sparrow, the masses would run riot. He’s not Humanity’s Strongest Soldier anymore these days, though the public never forgot his former status is exactly that: In the past. That aside, it would be fucking tedious to pick someone from the crowd he can trust enough. Levi might not care much about the served coffee as long as it’s at least something decent. It tastes like piss anyway. Yet he can’t accept any Tom, Dick or Harry to handle his precious tea and delicate china. It just won’t do.

He could always ask Evelyn or Norman, Levi parses as his hands scrub one used tea pot after the other, dishwater splashing over his wrists. Should there be someone trustworthy in need of a part-time job, they certainly know about it. Especially Evelyn is almost as well-informed of the town’s occupants and their affairs as Levi once was of his district in the Underground. If for different reasons. 

With the weekend approaching, it would be a relief in-between cleaning Hanji, making sure Eren is all right, and certainly fending off more wedding-related aid to have this issue set into motion. Yet Evelyn would be thrilled about this sort of news, and Levi doubts she’d keep it quiet for too long. At least the delivered dinners have proven themselves to be a success so far, not only because of Eren spending the saved time with kissing Levi senseless in their kitchen. 

The doorbell chimes, and a certain shift in the air announces Tom and Red just entered the café, even before their familiar steps click over the floorboards. Listening to their quiet, good-humoured voices, Levi rinses the final pieces of cutlery, adds the forks to the dish drainer on a tray, and after wiping dry the emptied sink, he carries the cleaned load to the counter.

“Time to celebrate,” Tom greets him with a smirk while Red seems to struggle with keeping a boisterous laugh in check. They stand at the clothes rack, hanging up their winter wear.

“Arsehole gone?” Levi asks, against all likelihood. He sets the tray with dripping dishes onto his work surface, snatches a tea towel from a pile, and produces a pair of cups. 

“No, but his noble fattiness made his duckboard break and he crashed into the stone floor last night,” Tom says as he and Red take their seats at the counter. “Well…that and some filing and sawing.”

While Red’s laughter breaks free after all, Levi stills in pouring them their coffee, setting down the pot. 

“Oh?” he says and lifts an inquiring eyebrow as he feels a smile build from deep within.

“Mm,” Tom says. “Clammed a vertebra and squeaked like a pig. Even more so when they popped his spine back in. I never was so happy about screams disturbing my night. He’s still walking crooked.”

By now, tears run down Red’s cheeks and his face is just as colourful as his hair. He makes a little hoarse noise, it sounds like a sow right before slaughter, and laughs some more. Silent, yet shaking him all through.

Snorting at the news, Levi continues pouring his comrades their coffee before setting two pieces of cherry pie with clotted cream before them. “On the house, I reckon.”

Tom lifts his hands and blinks in a vehement display of offended innocence. “We had nothing to do with it.” His expression adds a silent _ almost,  _ and Levi wheezes another snort, gesturing at the plates. 

“Shut the fuck up and eat,” he says with a smirk and fetches himself a piece of cake too. He even opens the caddie with Gyokuro. It’s a celebration after all. 

Composing himself, Red obeys by stifling one last escaping chuckle with his coffee.

“Rita?” Levi asks under his breath as he pours not too hot water into the small clay pot with tea leaves, silently counting down the seconds for steeping. 

Tom hums a no while his hand on the counter performs a  _ smaller _ motion. 

Mia. 

Amusement spreading into every fibre of his being, Levi stares. 

Tom shrugs and digs into his cherry pie with a pleased expression. “You learn a lot of tricks on the streets.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Levi retorts as he pours himself the clear, almost sunny looking, tea. “How’s HQ?”

“Running mad,” Tom replies in a hushed tone, just above a whisper to not make any sharp sounds. “One half is out of its mind and trying not to get into trouble for finding the happenings hilarious. And the others are glaring at us, trying to find a reason for the accident apart from the duckboard simply caving in.” He raises his voice a little. “As if it was our fault, really. Wood turns weak and brittle after a few years too many, and our Survey Corps beds only serve their necessary purpose. They’re not built for extra padded weight.”

Playing along, Levi nods. “Funding’s always been tight for our division. Serious matter as it seems.” 

He doubts Biarne and Tjorven give much of a damn about the military’s politics. Especially not Vigga, who is squealing and stuffing a piece of her bagel up her nose on the other end of the café, but one never knows for certain. 

“Eren?” he asks. 

“Fine,” Tom replies while Red devours his pastry like he was still in the Underground and close to starvation. “We look out for him and are ready to help should he need it. Commander’s fine too,” he adds before Levi has the chance to ask. “Must have had a hell of a night with calming the swine down about how we don’t get much extra funding for replacing bed bases regularly. She says it was worth it. Laughed tears when I saw her first thing this morning.”

Levi hums his thanks and takes a sip of tea. It tastes fucking fantastic.

Tom drinks some coffee, spears another bite of pie, eats it with obvious relish, but then his pale green eyes meet Levi’s with a severe look. “Heard you found out about the symptoms by the way,” he says, and Red emerges from behind his own cup of coffee with a rueful frown. “Sorry we didn’t tell. Thought this was best left between you and him.”

Nodding at them both, Levi makes a forgiving gesture with his hand before refilling Red’s coffee. “Forget about it.”

The two of them relax, and Tom reciprocates Levi’s nod. “Is he all right? Are you?”

“According to the circumstances,” Levi says, producing one of Briar’s herb rations from beneath the counter. “Instructions are inside. Should help when his migraine gets bad. Don’t spread it around. Ten people at the most for now, including my old Squad.” If they can keep secrets from him, they can keep secrets from the top brass too.

Tom nods and understands in an instant. “Non-military treatment.”

“We contacted a healer.” Reaching for the tea towel and the first dripping cup from his dish drainer, Levi starts wiping dry his cleaned china. “Don’t tell Hanji yet. I’ll talk to her on Friday.” 

“Roger, Captain,” Tom says and makes the small bundle disappear in a pouch. “Shower day?” He nods, not needing a reply. “I’ll make sure she’s here.”

“Good.” Levi smirks and takes another cup from the tray to wipe dry before lowering his voice. “Now tell me how much that bastard is hurting.”

 

*

 

Levi leaves the Sparrow with his last customer of the day at four o’clock sharp, stepping out into the winter dusk. 

It’s almost strange to squint against the setting sun pouring light across the street, and Levi chases it on his way to Donna’s general store. The recent evening deliveries have caused a constant usage of his thermos flasks, and though there’s not exactly a shortage yet, it won’t hurt to have a few extra. 

He’d ask Val to bring him some during his next visit, but Magda doesn’t sell something this special amongst her groceries, and he’d rather look at his choices himself. Even if that means having to hurry a bit with the errand so he won’t be late to get a picture of the situation at HQ. 

He picks up his pace, smirking once more at Tom’s descriptions of a whining, back-sore Claudio ranting about “Sabotage!” in the middle of the night. It must have been a sight. It’s almost sad neither him, nor Eren, could witness the actual incident first hand. Though with having Eren at home at night, Levi will gladly take that price over anything.

Donna’s shop greets him with the shrill light of the stones they found in the Reiss cave, and Levi scowls at himself for being is this finicky about his café equipment. As he peruses the store on his search for the right shelf, he nods at some of the other customers, blending out the images wanting to flood his head. There’s a reason for everyone being there that day still prefers oil lamps over the horrid things, even after all these years. Except for Historia perhaps. 

His steps come to a halt when he passes the tea section where Diane looks at a row of caddies. She frowns as she sighs and takes one of them into her hand, inspecting the description on the tin. Immersed, she opens the unsealed box, takes a look at the content, and closes it again, shoulders sagging slightly. Despite her blatant disappointment, she turns, the tea still in her hand, and almost walks into Levi. 

“Oh!” she says, drawing aside while her hand with the small box shoots behind her back. “Good evening Levi.” Her cheeks glow and she looks like she got caught.

“Diane,” Levi says, ignoring her embarrassment. “How’s your mother?”

Her posture eases a tad as her expression turns serious. “Better. She’ll be fine. Thank you. What brings you here? Don’t you have a royal delivery to make?” Her lips twitch in a small smile that, though it doesn’t last long, reaches her eyes. 

“Soon, yes,” Levi says. “Need some things for the café first.”

“Oh,” she says again, and nods. 

There’s an unfamiliar shyness to her today that compels Levi to prod. “You wanted to come in this morning,” he says. 

She sighs and clears her throat. “I wanted to fetch tea…for my mum. She says she can swallow the meds better with it than with water.”

“Mm,” Levi says. “Is that why you’re searching here?”

This time, her smile is silent, but lasts as she meets his eyes, retrieving the box from its hiding place. “So you did see me. I didn’t want to offend you. I know it’s bad quality.”

Something about her pose, her words, and how she smiles at him without really being able to hold his gaze for too long with a raised chin scratches at memories, old yet clear. In the end, it’s the way her fingers clutch around the tin can in her forceful grip that gives her away, and Levi doesn’t need to ask why she chose bad quality tea over his diligently selected leaves. It also explains why she paid for her food on Tuesday. 

Levi frowns. He sees no shame in poverty or, as more likely in Diane’s case, having to turn every coin you earn to have enough to eat and pay for medicine. He won’t utter any pity on her situation. Nor will he give her charity. It’s not what she needs, and she won’t accept either anyway. 

“The new pills making the money running low?” he asks. 

She blinks as she nods and admits, “It’s not impossible to manage, but we’ve got to be careful and cut back. The playschool doesn’t pay too well. You’d think after the war they’d fund them to at least make the kids’ lives a bit better, but no.”

“Tch.” Levi isn’t surprised by this news. The people in charge probably say the children are lucky to live and still have a home. Which doesn’t make their decisions right. They should rather build less heroic statues that cost a fortune. They look ridiculous anyway. “Fucking idiots.”

Despite his hissed curse, Diane’s smile brightens. “Well. It is how it is.”

“Mm,” Levi says, and as he looks at Diane with the horrible quality tea in her hand and the dark smudges beneath her eyes which usually aren’t there, he smells an opportunity. 

Diane is not what he’d call trustworthy at this point. He doesn’t know her well enough for it yet. But she’s smart, quiet, and—maybe the strongest argument in her favour—someone who’s company Levi never minded. She likes tea, being around people without having to interact with them on a personal basis too much, and she feels capable, efficient, and honest.

Eren doesn’t know her yet, which might be a problem in the end should the two of them not get along. But it is worth a try. 

Mirroring her smile, Levi makes a choice. “What are you doing this weekend, Diane?”

A small frown appears on her brow. “Nothing, aside taking care of my mum. Why?”

“Can you come over on Saturday? Around noon?” 

She looks startled, but nods. “Sure.”

“Good,” Levi says. “I have an offer for you.”


	16. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the risks in posting a work in progress is having to tweak little things in earlier sections as the tale expands. I've never been a planner of stories; I explore each tale as I put it down, and during the past weeks, some previously unlit headlamps went on, shining on a mass of grey people to put some of their faces into a distinct light and give them a real name, a real purpose, an important role in this story. To summarise, since the last update, there've been some additions to our cast of already existing minor OCs. It's nothing big or story-revolving, so no worries. The characters have always been part of this verse and its background bustle, only now I can make them out in the crowd and know who exactly they are. Hence, the story remains the same, as do the scenes, and none of the additions truly change anything up to this point. They do, however, expand this verse a little bit and provide background details that will be important later on. The respective characters will also be mentioned in the upcoming instalments and should weave in naturally for you, so you don't have to reread what's already posted to understand what's going on. If you are curious and do want to go back, though, I added short sentences and names to chapters 7, 9, and 12. 
> 
> Alongside that note, this is a good opportunity to confess I had to promote Tom from Captain to Major… Thick reference to pop culture and haunting melodies as this may be, I can't help it. Tom's name is and remains Tom, and since I need him to be only one rank below Hanji for various reasons, I hope for you all you know David Bowie's Space Oddity better than Peter Schilling's contribution to the 80s—which unfortunately has been haunting me ever since. 
> 
> Last but not least an announcement regarding the chapter count: Some of you already noticed the number went up since I started posting this story in September. It's still not the final count for part 1 of this tale, since the characters seem intent on expanding this story with beautiful chapters and important scenes. So prepare for the count to go up a little bit further as soon as I know how many chapters Magpie Part 1 will truly need. I am reaching the wrapping up stage as I write this, though, so keep posted. 
> 
> Oh, one more thing: The amazing Blauerozen drew fan art for chapter 5 with Eren and Levi at Magda's shop, and I'm so in love with it I can’t stop telling everyone how beautiful it is. You can find the gorgeous piece [here](http://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/post/182626058280/i-am-so-in-love-the-wonderful-blauerozen-drew). 
> 
> That being said, I hope you're all set for the starting marathon of long chapters. So get these blankets ready, and your tea supplies in reach. As always, feedback of any kind makes my day. <3 Thank you!

“This is unacceptable!” Eren scowls down at three pairs of eyes. “What the hell were you thinking!”

“But–”

“No ‘but,’ Rita,” he interrupts, arms crossed. “You promised you wouldn’t do anything. All three of you. You defied my orders. Right after you just wrote another essay. Why?”

It’s morning break between two history lessons, and he stands in a corner of the classroom, torn between anger, protective concern, and betrayal. He also feels warm admiration for Rita, Mia, and Harold being so loyal to him they’d compromise their own future in the military, but it’s just not worth it. And again: they promised.

When he entered the classroom this morning, ready to begin, Connie pulled him aside, enthusing about the same news Sasha let Eren in on before. As Sasha assumed, Connie’s performance of Claudio’s accident and the following aftermath were downright hilarious. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop Eren’s laughter from dying in his throat when Connie revealed he supplied the files and saws for this coup. 

“We did promise,” Rita says. “And  _ I _ didn’t do anything.”

Heart racing, Eren grinds his jaw, imagining the yell he can’t let out. 

At least the knowledge Rita and her friends were responsible for Claudio injuring himself during the night explains why Sasha told him to not be too rough on the kids. It explains her joke about Eren giving Connie a kiss from her, regarding his cooperation in their schemes too. Yet that’s pretty much everything Eren finds satisfying about the situation. 

He’s kept it together during the first class of the day, turning over possible solutions for this mess in his head, and somehow managed to quiet down the worst edge to his impulsive outburst. With morning break approaching, though, the impact of Rita’s betrayal flares back into his veins until the heat is burning on his arms, hurting his head. 

The most frustrating part is he can’t punish them for their prank. Not without drawing attention to them, or raising questions from above. So he pins Rita with his gaze, hoping the furious disappointment stands written over his face for her to read. 

Going by the graveness in her expression as she faces him without mischief or glee, it does. “Please don’t be mad, Instructor Eren,” she says. “I told you I wouldn’t do anything. And I didn’t. Mia and Harold did. Well…I helped a little bit with the plan and the tools, but that’s everything. I swear.”

“You didn’t do anything? You injured someone, Rita,” Eren points out, looking around to check for eavesdroppers, frowning at the realisation the room is close to empty. 

He’s about to rant on, when Mia steps before Rita and glances up at him, chin lifted, eyes clear, right hand snapping up into a salute. “You can be mad at me, Sir. Rita says the truth. It really was my plan.”

Arms falling at the honesty in her voice, Eren’s fury dissipates, leaving behind hollow, prickling irritation. He stares at her before recollects his professional voice with a shake of his head. 

“Why?” he asks again. “Why would you do this? I thought you’d understand. We’ve been through what this could entail, Mia. And I told you–”

“You told Rita to stay out of it, Sir,” Mia says, eyes and voice firm. “And she did. We all did it in secret. No one knew about it, and still don’t. Except for Instructors Connie and Sasha.” She scrunches her nose. “And Major Tom and a few of his men.”

“Tom?” Eren asks, too perplex to remember formalities. “What…but why?”

Mia’s kind features assume such pure contempt within a second it’s almost unnecessary for her to answer. “We told you. We don’t want to see you hurt, Sir. We won’t allow it. When someone hurts you, we’ll hurt them back. They have it coming.  _ He _ has. They all deserve it. Colonel Claudio’s in line for worse than a sore back for everything he’s trying to do to you and Captain Levi. He’s got his people causing trouble all over town too. They even went to Rita’s family. He needs to pay for his crimes the same as we have to do essays and cleaning when we misbehave.” 

Her friends nod, expressions just as earnest. Whereas Rita scowls with her fists balled at her side, Harold has pressed his lips together and folds his arms in a determined display of protectiveness, and Eren gulps. A coil forms in his chest. Loose at first before it compresses, becoming tighter and harder, until it presses against his ribs from the inside.

Eren looks at Harold’s bruise, at Rita’s scowl, then at Mia’s straight posture. He regards the shield the three have formed around him, and for a moment, the kids are gone; replaced by soldiers ready for battle. Ready to fight and die. For him. 

Just like Mikasa and Armin standing between him and the military in the Battle of Trost when they’d just found out he was a shifter. And again when they tried to lead Annie through the tunnels. Accompanied by Connie, Sasha, and Jean in so many other situations, like when they fought to get him out of that ugly cave, even when he yelled at them to just leave him there.

“Mia’s right,” Harold says. “We won’t allow them to do what they want without suffering consequences. We saw you on Monday. We don’t regret what we did, and we’d do it again. If anyone wants to hurt you, they have to go through us first. Isn’t that right, Rita?”

“Damn right, Harold,” she answers whilst Mia gives an affirming nod. 

Eren swallows, unable to think as the coil in his chest springs free, bursting with a glowing, deep warmth that threatens to press tears into his eyes. Lost for words, he stares, touched, baffled, and struggling to remain on his feet as his entire body loses its tension. Seizing the supporting furniture nearby, he takes a step backwards and sinks onto one of the tabletops. Not quite sitting, but unable to stand. 

He rubs his face, clenches his hands around the wooden edge of the desk beneath him, and releases a sigh. 

“Couldn’t you have found something less suspicious to do?” he asks as words seem to flow back into his head. With the anger subsiding, the ache returns, throbbing against his temples, yet he shoves the pain aside. “What if someone found out what you did? What if someone saw you?”

“We chose carefully amongst our options, Sir,” Rita says. “Mia had the idea of putting a hibernating snake into his bed, for example, but that was overruled.” She shoots a pointed glance at Harold, who glares at her, arms still crossed. 

“He’d have killed it,” he insists. “I told you: No animals, or I’m out this round.” He turns to Eren. “We were careful, Instructor Eren,” he answers the initial question in a quiet tone. “It’s why it took us a few days. Mia and I worked during breaks and meal times with Niv and Daegel standing watch. Tom covered for us all. We even cleaned away the sawdust.” When Eren remains silent, his face assumes a fierce edge and his voice gains assuredness. “No one saw us. Tom would know if someone did. We even have Instructor Connie as alibi should someone ask about the tools. He wants to give us carving lessons.” 

Eren is searching for words when Mia speaks, blue eyes sincere. “Plus, it truly was an old duckboard, Instructor Eren, Sir. I knew it was weak all along. Even way before the Colonel moved in there. It was already creaking real bad. I tested it.” She finishes her explanation with a smile so cunning and sly, Eren has to look twice to recognise her. 

Protective instinct still battling with emotion below his throat, he faintly registers he doesn’t want to ask her how she knew about the bed and what she did to ‘test’ it. He really doesn’t.

Pressing his fingers into his eye sockets, he takes a deep breath and regains his poise, silently thanking the desk for its continued support. As wonderful as it is to know the kids are on his side, he can’t let them go through with this, not without a lesson. He’ll have to talk to Connie and the other helpers too, but they can wait. This is more important now. If he only knew how to approach it best. 

In moments like this it never fails to amaze him how Levi managed to always look this confident while Eren was younger. Levi didn’t have a handbook on how to deal with a bunch of rebellious teenagers either, and in quiet moments he more than once admitted he had no fucking clue what was about to happen next. Still, whatever shit came flying their way, he always  _ felt _ confident. Self-assured and superior. It never failed to make Eren feel accepted, even when he stepped over a line and had to bathe it out afterwards. So what would Levi do? 

Conjuring the image of steady, grey eyes, Eren drags more calming air into his lungs. Levi…

Levi would be fair and strict. He’d find the perfect balance of standard military punishment, personal lecture, and efficiency. He’d use it for a good cause, a lasting cause, and give the kids something to help them keep out of trouble not only now, but in the future too.

He opens his eyes, and fixes Rita, Mia, and Harold with a hard stare, lowering his voice into a tone that doesn’t allow disobedience. “All three of you will do extra-curricular training for the month to come. Resilience, muscle formation, or learning some theory…whatever you can think of. One hour a day, weekends included. When someone asks, you’re doing it by choice. Understood?”

They all nod, though look at him with ill-composed smiles that grow wider by the second. The spark in Harold’s otherwise serious brown eyes carries over in the end, and Eren feels his heart go soft. He adores all three of them far too much for his own good. Or theirs, perhaps.

“You won’t do this again,” he says, needing to be clear on this. “I won’t allow it.”

“Aw, you’re not really mad,” Rita says with a little hop. Eren wills his eyes to flash blue at her, and she stills, tilting her head with a frown. “You are? You really, really should have heard the screams tonight, Sir. It was amazing! Plus, he can’t walk. Have you seen him?”

Before he can reply that no, he hasn’t yet, she billows her cheeks, swings one arm with the other pressing against her lower back, and drags her feet across the floor in tiny limping steps. Watching her with Mia and Harold snickering beside him, Eren bites on his tongue, fighting to suppress his laugh. It’s an even better pantomime act than Connie’s. 

When Rita pretends to stumble, his restraint cracks in a stifled snort, and as they look at each other, he knows the exact moment she understands how much he loves these wonderful kids. It overrules everything else, and no trouble in the world, no Colonel Claudio breathing down their necks, can stop him from protecting them with his life. 

Eyes gleaming, Rita throws herself forward, hugging him tight. “We told you we have your back,” she says. “Don’t you forget it.”

Flooded with adoration, Eren looks at Mia and Harold smirking up at him in pure joy, and sighs, ruffling Rita’s mop of black hair as she steps back. 

“You can skip the extra Training tonight,” he says, unable to hold back his grin any longer. “You’ve got other things to do.” He stands, takes Mia by the shoulder with a grateful squeeze, and confides Levi’s secret into her ear. “Be at the gates after classes this evening.”

Rita cheers.

 

*

Claudio crawling through the mess hall during lunch truly is a sight to behold. He seems to wince with every movement, and granting Rita a mental star for her limping performance, Eren struggles to keep his facial expressions under control. Still, when he queues for his ration and a long arm crashes hard around his shoulder with a familiar hoarse snicker, his tight-kept amusement pops and leaves him with scourging heat. 

“Hello, great leader,” Niv says, pulling Eren closer against his wiry frame. “Why so pale on this beautiful day?”

Slipping out of the grip, Eren pushes him away. “Fuck off, Niv. I’m not in the mood.” 

“Ouch!” Niv laughs, fist hitting his chest as he pretends to stagger. His near-golden brown eyes glisten. “Foul mood, huh? What’s bitten you? Come on, tell an old friend how he can help.”

“Didn’t you help enough?” Eren retorts, staring hard. 

Niv seems unaffected. “So you heard about my contribution! It was my pleasure.” Smirk crinkling his temples, he leans closer and hisses with a theatrical voice, “Sabotage! This is treason! Now I can’t even take a shit without hurting like hell.” He wriggles his eyebrows and blows a raspberry for good measure. 

The responding snort bubbles out of Eren without his permission and eradicates every last grain of annoyance. “Bullshit. He didn’t say that last part.”

Straightening, Niv shrugs. “He might as well have. By the way. You should have seen Daegel plot with little Mia. I think he likes her just for being small enough to fit in his hand.” 

Eren smiles at the image, suppressing a wince when shrill laughter from the other side of the hall cuts through his aching head, reminding him of his grumbling stomach as well as his migraine. “Yeah, I already heard he was on it too,” he says, moving up in their line. “Don’t you guys have something better to do than goading my Trainees into trouble?”

Moving up alongside Eren, Niv shakes with hoarse laughter. “I beg to differ. It was them who came to us. And how could we have refused to assist when it was for such a good cause? We wouldn’t have let anyone catch them anyway, and we didn’t. You know you can rely on us, great leader. You always could.”

Eren rolls his eyes. “Stop calling me that. Besides, what are you doing out of the pen already, anyway? I thought they locked you up for starting a commotion on Tuesday.”

“Only for a night. Plus, I didn’t start it. All I did was fight it out with Daegel who’d offer himself to be a punching bag for these arseholes. I won. It hurt. Real bad. So I hit back. That’s all.”

Eren snorts. “Right.” The sun will rise in the east should he witness a single week go by without Niv or Daegel getting into a fistfight. Best of all with each other. “What did Tom have to say to that?”

Niv waves a hand. “Ah, you know he can’t be mad at me for too long. He told me to cool off in my cell and slipped me an apple for my troubles. To be honest, the capital’s MPs fight like babies. Especially that Xen guy. Likes to deal it but can’t take anything.” He shakes his head with a sigh, voice rising to a high-pitched whine. “You hit me in the ear!” He snickers. “Pathetic.”

“You’re a menace,” Eren says, shaking his head to the server as she asks him about extra rations. 

Niv grins. “Thanks. Now tell me how beautiful this sight is,” he says, jerking his chin at Claudio’s table. “You must admit, if anyone deserves to be butthurt, it’s him.”

Heaving a sigh that ends in a snort, Eren punches Niv’s shoulder, takes the tray with his lunch from the kitchen staff—it’s boar stew as Sasha predicted—and steps out of the line. “Later, fopdoodle.” 

“Always a pleasure, great leader.”

Eren gives Niv the finger and crosses the raucous mess hall, taking his seat at his regular table next to a smirking Jean. He grips his spoon, summons his outrage, and lifts his gaze to Connie opposite him, affecting his best glare. Four rebukes down, two to go. 

Connie grins, and Eren bursts. “How could you not tell me what those three were planning?” he asks, staring hard. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Eren,” Connie declares, grey-brown eyes gleaming whilst Sasha at his side pitches into her food. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Eren says. “Besides. I asked you whether you knew anything, and you lied. To my face! How could you?”

“Ah, you know me, Eren.” Connie shrugs and crosses his arms in mock-offence. “I’m a master at secrecy.” His grin, already wide to begin with, widens even more at Jean’s snort. 

“Yeah, right.”

“Yeah,” Eren says, careless about agreeing with Jean out loud without hesitance. “When have you ever been able to keep a secret from any of us, huh? What is this shit?”

“That’s not fair,” Sasha’s voice comes from inside her bowl. She licks her empty dish clean, and Eren frowns, once more impressed with her eating speed.

“Connie can keep lots of secrets,” Sasha says, smacking her lips.

Eren and Jean look at each other, grin, and both face Connie. “Oh, yeah?”

The heat shooting into Connie’s face is visible, rising from his neck to his spiky blond hairline as sweat appears on his brow. 

“Like what?” Eren pokes. 

“You want to tell us,” Jean sneers.

Their teasing is interrupted by a pair of hands snaring Jean’s tray right from under his nose. His propped up elbow crashes onto the tabletop. “What the fuck, Sash? That’s my food!”

“It’s boar!” she hisses, eyes wild. “Deal with it. And I dare you to fight me, Jean!” Swishing her cutlery through the air, she nearly slices Jean’s hand when he reaches out to snatch back his tray.

He curses, inspecting his fingers for harm. “You crazy bitch!” Jean kicks her beneath the table, but Sasha is already on her feet, spoon deep in the bowl.

“Take Eren’s if you’re hungry. He has seconds rights.”

“Sash, that goes too far,” Connie says. 

“I won’t let him waste good food, Con! He never takes his extra rations!”

“I don’t mind,” Eren says. His headache, mild as it is, pounds in his skull, and Sasha’s clamour doesn’t help. “You can have mine.” 

Jean shakes his head. “No. You look like shit again. And she’ll never learn like this.” He scowls and gestures at Sasha who shoves one spoonful of stew after the other into her mouth.

“When does she ever learn, Jean?” Eren shoves over his tray and pushes back his chair. “I’ve got Levi’s extras in my office.” Knowing better than to leave the mess hall without eating at least one of his portions, he stands to fetch his extra serving. “She’s right anyway. I do have seconds.”

“See, Jean?” Sasha says between gulps.

“Cheap cake for you on Saturday,” Eren announces. It won’t bug Sasha. Not with more meat in her stomach right now, but Jean is right. They have to draw a line somewhere.

“I don’t care!” she yells after him. “And don’t you fucking dare, Jean! My man fought for this, and I will eat it!”

“Sash, no.” Connie protests, holding out a hand. 

“Don’t you dare either! This is mine now!”

Rubbing his hurting eyes, Eren leaves his squabbling friends at the table to join Mikasa and Tom in the queue for the first second serving he asked for in two months. 

“Unbelievable,” Mikasa says, glancing at Sasha with flinty eyes while Tom scowls. “Someone should stop her.”

“No,” Eren says, tugging Mikasa by her arm to hold her back. “Seriously. She’ll finish before you’re there, and Levi packed me some lunch too.”

They both look at him, then at Sasha with her head deep in her bowl, licking it clean.

Mikasa purses her mouth yet nods. “You shouldn’t have let her take it.”

“I didn’t, Mikasa. She took Jean’s, and I offered him mine.”

“I’ll report it,” Tom says. 

“Are you serious?” Eren bursts, sighing when Tom stares back without a reply. It’s not like Sasha would care unless Hanji deprived her of lunches. He scratches his forehead at the thought. “Fine. She’ll be at the Sparrow on Saturday. Don’t make her hungry then.”

Tom nods, takes his serving of lunch, and moves towards his regular seat with the Underground Squads before Eren can confront him about his role in Mia’s coup. He watches Tom squeeze himself between Red and a snickering Niv. His head throbs too strong for another confrontation so soon. 

“We can’t let her go through with this.” Mikasa glares in Sasha’s direction. “You shouldn’t have to give over your food. I bet she planned it this way.”

“Let it be, Mikasa,” Eren says, wanting to cover his ears. “Please? Just for now.”

Back at the table, Mikasa takes Eren’s prior seat beside Jean. She shoves Eren around the edge, forcing him to a free space where Sasha can’t access to his lunch. Rolling his eyes, he obeys. To his relief, the bickering has stopped, most likely because Sasha finished her extra bowl of stew.

“Apologise,” Mikasa says, staring daggers at Sasha who searches her two bowls for more scraps of food. Her silvery eyes are ice cold, but Sasha smiles back with a guilty giggle. 

“I’m…sorry?” she mumbles. “He wouldn’t have gotten a second serving without me. Isn’t that right, Eren?” She leans forward to look past Connie who stifles a burp and shoves away his cleared bowl. 

Meeting her beaming brown eyes, Eren sighs. “You’re a nuisance.” 

He shields his bowl from greedy hands as he starts to eat, so even if Sasha decided to leap across the table, she can’t take it. They all should have expected something like this, he supposes. Sasha is ravenous on any day, but hold meat under her nose, and she forgets her principles. It’s a wonder she hasn’t raided the kitchen yet. 

“Mika–?” Sasha starts, sugar sweet and hopeful.

“No,” Mikasa says.

“How do you even know what I wanted to ask?” Her voice is pouting. 

“What is wrong with you lately?” Jean asks. 

Sasha groans. “I’m hungry.”

“No shit!” Jean glares. “When aren’t you? I swear it’s becoming worse each day.”

“You wouldn’t know. It’s agony.”

Glancing up from her bowl with her spoon stilling in midair, Mikasa squints at Sasha, appraising her face and middle section before meeting her eyes. She blinks, fixes Connie whose blushing face is deep in his cup with water. Her eyes narrow further, then she seems to snap out of it and turns to Eren. “Are you alright, Eren?” she asks. “You look like you’re having a headache.”

“A bit,” Eren admits. “Not too bad though. Just annoying.”

She taps her dripping spoon against the edge of her bowl before lifting it to her mouth. “Did you drink your mint infusion before coming here?”

“Yes, I–” Cutting himself off, Eren frowns at her while their friends fall quiet and look at Mikasa and him with curious eyes. He lowers his spoon, his hand clutching it tight. “How the fuck do you know about Briar’s medicine?”

Mikasa shrugs. “Tom gave me a small ration.” 

Nodding, Eren sighs. Of course. Tom must have been at the Sparrow to tell Levi about Claudio’s little ‘accident,’ and received a parcel with herbs in return. Levi and Eren agreed on letting in a few selected people on the medication for emergency situations alone, yet Eren didn’t expect having to talk about this now. 

“What did he tell you?” he asks, giving in. Better get it over with before Mikasa can pester him on the matter.

“Just gave me the herbs with instructions and told me to talk to you,” Mikasa replies. “How is Briar? Is she any good? Like your dad?”

Eren sighs and fiddles with his spoon. “No, not like dad. A herbal woman, not a doctor. She’s all right, I guess.” He peers around in the grave silence. “Don’t look at me like I’m dying.”

Mikasa takes a breath, but her mouth closes without a word. Jean scowls.

Hearing himself, Eren rolls his eyes and scrubs his face. “Levi asked for her help with the symptoms after Monday. She’s…” he looks across the hall, searching a fitting description, and smiles at the flash of a messy brown ponytail. “A lot like Hanji, actually.”

“You’re saying there’s two of them?” Jean asks with an incredulous huff while a smile twitches on Mikasa’s mouth. 

Eren chuckles. “Seems so.”

“Good,” Mikasa says. “Then she’ll be of help.”

Eren smiles back. “We hope so.”

“What else did she do aside from giving you herbs?” Jean asks. His arm is wrapped around his bowl while he keeps a watchful eye on Sasha who seems to twitch on her chair as he eats. 

Eren shrugs. “Not much. She wants information from Hanji first before trying certain treatments. Suggested some stuff though.” Like sex, his brain supplies. He shoves the thought and the seductive images aside, torn between gratitude for his hair concealing his earlobes and warmth at the memories from the night before. Clearing his throat, he continues, “We’ll arrange for Hanji to talk to her next week after Claudio is gone. And then we’ll see.”

Though he replied to Jean’s question, Eren finds himself looking at Mikasa. He can’t tell her about the possible cure Briar brought up. Not here, not like this. She’ll go crazy over it. Or perhaps not. He wants to talk about this with Levi first.

Her eyes search his, and Eren meets their scrutiny with a small wrinkle of his nose. _ Later.  _

Mikasa nods, and they continue eating. 

“Let’s hope it helps,” Jean says. 

Pitching into his stew, Eren hums. “It seems so. The mint and ginger infusions already work. Make my head clearer.”

Jean hums, the resolute scowl back on his brow. “Good.”

“Eren?” Sasha tries again. 

“No.”

She redirects. “Can Jean and Mikasa come to the café with us on Saturday?”

Blinking at the question, Eren frowns at her. “Um…yes, of course. If they want?” He glances at Mikasa, who nods. 

Jean shrugs. “Don’t see why not.”

“Then yes,” Eren says. 

“Does that mean I get less cake?” Sasha asks. 

Revenge is sweet, Eren thinks. “We’ll see,” he mumbles into his bowl, leaning over it in a protective shell, waiting for the expected attack. 

“Boar!”

“That’s it.” 

Before Eren sees what happens, Mikasa rises from her seat, rounds the table, and drags a squealing, thrashing Sasha out of the mess hall as if she weighed nothing and isn’t flailing like mad. 

“Meat! Let me down! Down! Mikasa! I’m so hungry…please…” Her screams echo between the stone walls, attracting every single pair of eyes. 

“Hell of a pair of women, eh?” Connie says into the racket, leaning back in his chair with a grin. 

Instead of joining in his amusement, Jean fixes Connie with a gaze Eren hasn’t seen on him for a long, long while. It’s cold and composed, and darkens his eyes. “If she ever tries to steal his ration again, she’ll lose a hand. And yes, I’ll do that myself, Con.” 

“I know,” Connie sighs. “I’m sorry. I’ll let her know.” 

“If it’s getting that bad, why’d she stop using her wages for extra food when she’s on rotation to go into town?” 

“She still does. We both do,” Connie says as he scratches his blond head.

Watching their silent exchange with nothing but curious surprise, Eren frowns at the serious undertone in the atmosphere around them. Jean and Sasha are like siblings. Jean would never hurt her. Or at least it always seemed like it. 

Biting on his lip, Eren’s shoulders roll forward as the tense coil from morning break returns in his chest to pull tight. He doubts it’s only his and Jean’s talk a week ago that makes Jean this protective. They’ve always had each others’ back. But Jean warning Sasha this way goes too far, certainly. They don’t turn on each other, not for anything in the world. Not in this group. 

He opens his mouth to say he doesn’t mind Sasha taking his extra serving of food, which he truly wouldn’t have otherwise, but Jean raises a hand, telling him to stay out of this. Shrugging to no one in particular, Eren clasps his lips shut. For about a second.

“Anyway,” he says to ease the burning sensation on his skin, hoping the change of topic will distract Connie and Jean from each other. When they nod at each other, his shoulders relax. “Can you and Sasha take over the classes tomorrow afternoon, Con?”

“Sure, man,” Connie says. “Morning lessons too?”

“No, just after lunch.”

“Whatever you want.” Connie shrugs and grins, jerking his chin at a spot somewhere at Jean’s back. “Look at that. Isn’t it just pitiful?”

Eren lifts his gaze while Jean turns around, and smiles at Claudio hobbling towards the exit of the mess hall. He’s flanked by Hanji chattering with wild gestures and Historia floating at his other side, while Erika follows two steps behind. His little eyes find Eren’s over the heads of sitting soldiers, and as his blond moustache twitches in a taunting sneer, Eren knows Claudio is blaming him for his injury. Regarding the real perpetrators, Eren thinks that can only be a good thing. 

While Hanji laughs and manoeuvres the idiot out of the hall, Connie snorts and folds his arms. “How long do you think our friend over there will continue limping like that? A week? Two?”

Snorting, Jean stuffs another spoonful of stew into his mouth. “Let’s hope so.” He nods at Eren with glee twinkling in his light brown eyes. “Nice Trainees you’ve got.” He smirks. “Smart.”

Poking out his tongue at the side blow hiding within the praise, Eren catches Mia’s wink across the mess hall, and chuckles. “So they are.”

 

*

 

The overall pride doesn’t last long. To be precise, the sentiment lasts until afternoon when Ian punches Phillip so hard during muscle formation drills Eren has to intervene. 

“He hit me first!” Ian scowls when Eren asks them what happened, at the same time Phillip insists, “He started it.”

“I did not!” 

Holding Ian back from pouncing on Phillip again, Eren looks at Connie as he fastens his grip on the struggling kid. “I’ll handle this.” 

The four of them stand beside the gym room’s medicine cabinet, a generous distance from the training area. Using the distraction to slack off, the class peers at them with curious glances, pretending to continue, yet trying to listen in. Some even shift closer. 

Connie nods. “Everyone back to the drills.” And after a brief pause. “Now!”

“I’ll ask only once more,” Eren says, fixing first Ian then Phillip with a hardened expression. “What happened? You first.” 

Colour rising to his blood-streaked face, Phillip looks at his feet. Eren inspected the wound on his brow before he took the boys to task, and disinfected it. It looks like it will need proper treatment, if not stitches. 

Phillip mumbles something so quiet Eren can only make out “insult” and “not important.”

Reaching for patience, Eren wishes for the second time of the day conciliating wasn’t part of his job. “Speak up, Phillip.” Ian stopped to fight his way out of Eren’s hold, so he lets him go, ready to intervene should he have to.

Lifting his head, Phillip seems to decide on whether to comply or not. In the end, his shoulders lift in a weak, slow shrug, and he says, “He said Titan shifters shouldn’t be allowed to marry, Sir.” 

“And then he punched me!” Ian contributes. 

Eren shoots Ian a silencing stare and secretly thanks Levi for lots and lots of lessons on how such a look works when Ian presses his lips together and obeys. He even pales a little, although the recalcitrant fire in his eyes lingers, and Eren has a feeling neither is this a new dispute between the boys, nor something simple detention will fix. 

Meanwhile, Phillip nods. “And then I hit him. He shouldn’t say such a thing, Sir. It’s disrespectful.”

“All right.” Keeping his expression grim, yet neutral, Eren nods and faces Ian. “Your turn.”

“When he hit me, I hit back.”

That part Eren witnessed. He waits for more, but it seems the only thing Ian has to say, so Eren considers how to react best. 

It’s not as though he is inexperienced with the usual procedure. Nor does he have a clean slate when it comes to hitting people, nor having regular feuds with one particular person over the course of many years. Yet Jean and he were different. They lashed out at each other, yelled a few uncomfortable truths into the other’s face, had thorough disputes to blow off steam. All right, there was that one unfortunate incident with Jean’s broken nose. Despite this, they never hated each other. They both tried their best to keep their quarrels out of the classroom and missions. That aside, they always knew their behaviour was imbecile, although their rivalry also made them far better soldiers, and people, in the end. 

The friction between Ian and Phillip is something else. Even now, with the fight interrupted, they stare at each other with nothing but disdain. If Eren wants to stop this, he and Connie have to find and fix the issue between them before the next three years of Training worsen what happened today.

Furthermore, Ian’s attitude towards Titans and shifters is something new to Eren. So far, Ian hasn’t stood out with prejudice towards him during classes. Nor has he displayed such blatant hostility. There was caution, perhaps, and a certain inhibition. It never got out of hand though. Not like this anyway. 

Claudio is behind this. Eren is certain of it. Either directly or through his men. A quick check will suffice to confirm the suspicion, but before that, they’ve got to deal with the problem at hand.

Deciding to start with a suitable punishment and get that open wound on Phillip’s face treated, Eren looks between them. “You’ll both muck the stables for the rest of the week and the following seven days. You’ll do it civilized, and you’ll do it together.” 

“But I don’t want to work with him! That’s unfair!” they both protest, yet fall silent in an instant when they meet Eren’s gaze. 

Knowing his eyes are blue, he softens the intensity, but doesn’t pull back the punishment, nor the order in his voice. “Instructor Connie and I will check on the efficiency. We are thorough, so you'd better do it well. You’ll also see the Commander because of this before curfew today. We don’t intentionally attack and injure our fellow comrades, especially not during training when we are supposed to learn teamwork. Ian, even though he hit you first, the rules still apply to you too. Now shake hands and apologise.”

Eren folds his arms as the seconds stretch. Antipathy plasters both Ian and Phillip’s features, displaying what they don’t say out loud. Eventually, the two give in and hold each other’s hand for a fraction of a second before flinching back as if any further touch would singe them. 

“I apologise,” Ian bites out. When Eren clears his throat, he crosses his arms and mutters, “for hitting you.”

“I apologise for hitting you too,” Phillip says, arms likewise crossed. 

“Good,” Eren says with a nod. “Phillip, off to the Medic. Ian, you stay with me.” 

Eren waits until Phillip is out of the gym before he continues. “In addition to mucking the stables, you’ll write an essay on why we don’t insult superior officers, Ian. I could throw you out of the program for this sort of behaviour, do you know that? You enlisted, yes, but you’re not an official Trainee yet. We don’t tolerate disobedience.”

Ian scoffs. “You just don’t like me. I don’t want to write a stupid essay.” 

“But you will,” Eren replies, heat prickling on his arms. “Otherwise the Commander will expel you as a chronic insubordinate.” 

The disgusted look Ian throws him for that tells him this will be a long and straining talk. After Mia, Rita, and Harold, Eren hoped this would be it with complicated rebukes for today. Apparently, he was wrong. And the day started so well.

Nevertheless, he’s almost relieved this happened now when he can confront this himself and not tomorrow when he would have been at home. Connie and Sasha shouldn’t have to deal with this topic, nor with defending him. This is his own battle. Eren’s alone. 

“Your punishment has nothing to do with me not liking you,” he says. 

“Oh, yeah?” Ian retorts. “I wouldn’t mind if you don’t like me. I don’t like you either.”

“You don’t have to like me,” Eren says, keeping his voice stern. “I’m your Instructor. I don’t ask much of my Trainees, but I do demand respect. What you think of me isn’t important as long as you understand that rule. This is not school, Ian. You understand what we’re doing here, don’t you?” 

“I don’t care if this is the military. You’re a freak! I wish I’d never come here.” Ian scowls at him, expression fierce and fists tight at his side. The defiance is obvious in his posture. Yet there’s something else in his quivering chin and watering eyes, something a lot like remorse and shock. 

Eren considers it for a moment, a heavy stone forming in his guts. It’s not the insult that gets to him. What does is the realisation he wants to help this kid. Something is going on here. Thinking back, he tries to come up with moments in which he’s seen Ian talk to his comrades, laughed or simply spent his breaks in someone’s company, but there are none. Eren frowns. 

He looks Ian up and down, assessing his build. Even if he should miss out on all remaining classes this week, he’s fit. He has good instinct too and balance as far as Eren can tell from the two weeks Ian’s been here. Pulling him out of one class won’t hurt.

Ian tries to conceal a sniff with shuffling feet, and Eren makes up his mind. “Wait for me here.”

Leaving Ian to his own thoughts beside the medical cabinet, Eren approaches Connie. After a brief exchange and recounting of what happened, Connie agrees to take over the rest of the class with a nod, and Eren gestures at Ian to follow him outside. 

“Where are we going?” Ian asks, arms crossed and pout so intense Eren suspects one could see it from the moon. “I’ve got to be in class, remember?”

Impervious to his snide demeanour, Eren walks on. “To the horses.”

“I know how to muck the stables. Instructor Sasha already told us.”

“I know,” Eren says. “We’ll ride out.”

Although he doesn’t reply, Ian’s eyes widen in surprise. 

After making a detour to fetch their coats, they arrive at the stables where Eren tells Ian to saddle his horse and meet him outside. 

Light heat bursts behind his ribs when Ian exits the stables with a bay horse Eren knows all too well. Upon seeing him, she neighs and quickens her pace, pulling Ian along with such zeal the reins slip out of his hands and Eren has to stifle a fond laugh. 

“Hey!” Ian calls, running after her. “Where are you going? Stop!”

“It’s okay,” Eren says, welcoming the exuberant mare with open arms as she comes to a halt before him. “We know each other–” The end of the sentence goes under in a wheeze as huge lips nuzzle his face in unadulterated delight, tickling his laughter out after all. 

“Hey girl,” he chuckles, fingers stroking over her mane. “Hey. Yes, so good to see you too. We are alone. Sorry.” 

Ending his greeting with an ear rub that has her snuffle into his neck, Eren lowers his voice. “Now no more mischief, okay. Do you think you can do that?” 

As Eren hands Ian back his reins she snuffles once more, letting the boy mount her with a patient if slightly questioning glance at Eren when Ian struggles on his way up.

He snorts to himself, pats his own attention-demanding horse in appeasement, and gets on the saddle too. “All right?” Eren checks on Ian who sits a bit too stiff in his seat yet otherwise looks ready. “Let’s go then.”

They don’t ride far. Only far enough to leave the grounds of HQ behind and reach the forest. After the gloomy dawn, the blanket of clouds broke up around noon, and hazy sunlight casts through the trees, illuminating Ian features. 

Whereas he first looked nothing but glum, the exercise and change of scenery do him good. Colour returns his face, and the scowl is gone, having made way for a concentrated expression. 

Eren lets them trot on for another few minutes before he gives the order to stop. Ian dismounts with a bit of wobbling, the slight uncertainty in his legs as he hits the ground, telling he’s unfamiliar with the exercise. Hands slipping into his pockets, he stands beside his mare as though he was uncertain about what to do with her now. Regarding the look of his horse, the feeling is mutual. 

Smiling, Eren produces a pair of old carrots from his saddle bag. A remainder from yesterday’s training with the second-years. He breaks the carrots into smaller bite-sized chunks, and feeds a couple to his own mount first, patting her neck. 

“Have you ever cared for a horse before, Ian?” Eren asks as he approaches him, already knowing the answer. His own mare, Salka, follows like a dog, bumping his shoulder for more treats.

The boy shakes his head, hands in his coat pockets, and looks thoroughly displaced. 

“All right. You know her name?” Eren asks. 

It’s one of the horses they had with them on his first expedition and survived the victorious battle too. Even before that, Eren rode at her side more often than he can count; he’s given her carrots and apples despite her owner’s grumbled remarks about Eren spoiling her too much. She’s still good for another two years before she’s retired due to her age. Of course, she will cooperate training new cadets how to ride, but her heart lies somewhere else.

“Meraki,” Ian says, eyeing her with suspicion. “I don’t think she likes me.”

Eren smiles at Meraki’s equally suspicious glance at the youngster standing at her head. She’s a calm, devoted, and gentle mare with little tolerance for silliness and a tendency to deeply adore whoever is willing to massage her ears. She will also love anyone who gives her frequent brushing and baths. 

He hands Ian one of the carrots. “Say her name and give this to her. She won’t bite if you keep your palm open flat.”

Though he frowns at the last comment, Ian complies, holding out the carrot, shoulders tense with trepidation. When Meraki’s nostrils search for the food and she snatches it from his hand to crunch on it with delight, he flinches but keeps his ground. 

“Don’t look directly into her eyes,” Eren advises, stroking Meraki’s muscular neck and smiling when he thinks of Sasha’s comment this morning. “They don’t like that too much. It’s a threat to them.”

“Oh.” Ian bites on his lip and puts his hand back down. He looks to his side when he speaks again, eyes cast on a patch of snow on the forest floor. “Why aren’t you yelling at me for calling you a freak?”

“Why should I?” Eren asks, seizing the easy opening in this talk. “Because you insulted me? Trust me, that wasn’t the first time someone said that about me. Nor will it be the last.”

“But shouldn’t you be angry?” Ian asks. 

Poking his arm with another carrot chunk for Ian to take, Eren shakes his head as he holds out more for Salka. “Do you want me to be?”

While Ian accepts the carrot, he takes his time before he answers. “No.” He offers the food in his hand to Meraki and doesn’t bat an eye this time when she nuzzles it out of his hand. 

“Good,” Eren says, both to Ian’s answer and his reaction. “Now scratch behind her ears at the root.” He smiles when Ian frowns at him. “She likes that.”

Ian turns back to Meraki, and after correcting his look from her eyes to her nose, he slowly lifts his hand to brush it over her ears. Meraki leans into the touch and puffs out a snort before nuzzling deep into Ian’s shoulder. 

“Hah, that tickles!” Ian protests with a snicker that seems to surprise himself. He blinks, stills, and then continues to rub Meraki’s ears, a silent, content smile building on his face. 

“Why did you enlist in the Survey Corps, Ian?” Eren asks, sensing it’s safe to prod the subject further. “It’s common knowledge I’m an Instructor here. You could have gone to General Training Camp if you wanted to have a human teacher.” Giving him time, Eren doesn’t look at him, but can tell by the faltering movements of Ian’s hand he is forming a reply. 

“I don’t want to stay within the walls. They’re stupid.”

Eren hums. “There are other possibilities to go outside. It’s not forbidden by law anymore. There even are some growing settlements from here to the sea you could join. They always look for builders and other sorts of helpers.”

Ian doesn’t answer, so Eren shrugs. The cause of the fight with Phillip comes to his mind. It mingles with recollections of Claudio shouting at him and memories of dungeon cells, court trials, and many, many more that aren’t solely his own. 

“I won’t tell you to like me or what I am, Ian,” Eren says after pulling himself back to the present and into himself. “Many people don’t like me. I certainly don’t have a clean record. But I will see to it you’ll be expelled should you disobey orders, or are disrespectful to your superiors like you were today.” 

He gives himself a mental slap when he recalls his rather lax reaction to the situation with Mia’s prank. He knows he’s being biased, and maybe unprofessional. Yet there’s a difference between turning a blind eye to horseplay which was steeped in loyalty-driven revenge, or letting someone continue acting out blind malice as Ian had. An Instructor like Shadis wouldn’t have given Ian a second chance. He would have discharged Ian for disorderly conduct.

“Same should you send more of your fellow Trainees to the Medic. It’s unacceptable behaviour to lash out at your comrades because they disagree with you. Do you understand?”

Ian nods as he continues stroking Meraki’s ears. “Yes.” He pauses for a moment and swallows before adding a quiet, “Sir.”

That’s good enough for now, Eren muses. At least regarding the problem between Ian and himself. There’s still Phillip, however. Phillip with his new scar on his cheek and his constant quarrel with Ian. Eren doesn’t know whether the dislike between these two is caused by disagreement over their teacher, or if it goes deeper. Time will tell.

“You can come to me when you have trouble getting along with your classmates,” Eren offers. “Or if you think I’m the wrong choice for you, ask Instructors Connie or Sasha for help.”

Remaining quiet, Ian nods again while Meraki continues to happily nuzzle his shoulder. As he watches Ian’s young face relax at another puff of horse breath into his ear, Eren realises he can’t recall ever seeing Ian this at ease. Somehow, the thought sends a small twinge through his midriff, and pushes him to speak on. 

“You won’t always be liked by everyone, Ian. It’s not how the world works. What matters is what you make of it. And hitting someone because they have a different opinion or hit you first…it doesn’t solve the problem itself. Most often it makes things worse. Find a way to channel your emotions and use them for a better cause.”

Ian bites his lip before he looks at Eren. “How do you do it?”

The honest question astonishes him, and Eren shrugs as he thinks of an answer. I tend to yell and give Jean a satisfying punch, he answers in his own head, but that’s not an appropriate reply here. Plus, aside from yelling at Jean on Monday, it’s been a while since they had their last stress-relieving quarrel. Regarding their talk in the Sparrow a week ago, it may never happen again. Eren can’t put a finger on the why, but the thought almost nudges at something nostalgic.  

At any rate, he has to find something better to say to Ian. Going into a fight never was so much channelling his emotions rather than acting on them and dragging others into the pit with him. He had to learn this the hard way, but maybe he can spare Ian the same bumpy road.

“I clean stuff,” he replies in the end. “Or exercise.”

Two dark eyebrows shoot up. “You clean stuff. Seriously? Isn’t that like…super weird?”

“You think?” Smiling, Eren takes in Ian’s sceptical expression and can’t help but chuckle. “Better weird than angry all the time,” he says with a shrug. To him it’s never been strange. Then again, maybe Levi had a lot to do with that. 

“I don’t know if I want to clean for that,” Ian admits. 

“There are other solutions. Maybe talking to her might help for a start,” Eren says, pointing at Meraki. “Animals are good listeners, and it seems like you two get along better than you thought after all.”

Ian blinks in surprise, and then such a wide smile spreads on his face the angry, discontent boy from before seems to have gone entirely. “I’ll try,” he says, patting Meraki’s long nose. 

Eren breaks up the remaining carrot, handing Ian one piece and feeding Salka the rest. 

The wind rustles through the trees above, sending a few clumps of snow across the small clearing in which they stand. 

“Are you truly a Titan shifter, Sir?” Ian asks.

Eren tilts his head, surprised. The new direction in their conversation doesn’t astonish him. What does is the lack of aversion in Ian’s voice. “I am,” he says. 

Ian frowns as he grants Eren a disbelieving lookover. “You don’t look like one.”

The comment coaxes a chuckle out of him. “How did you think we looked?”

“I don’t know.” Shrugging, Ian furrows his brow. “More bizarre? Without clothes? Like the pictures in history and theory classes. I saw the statue in Mitras.”

“That statue isn’t really anything to go by.” Eren snorts, thinking of the ridiculous thing. “If you want to know what my Titan looks like, you could ask the Commander for drawings. I wouldn’t advise you to do so if you don’t want to listen to a monologue about Titans for the rest of the day, though.” He grins at Ian’s confused expression and shrugs. “I won’t stop you, but you’ll see. She definitely has the most answers to any questions you might have about shifters. Or Titans in general.”

“Am I allowed to ask questions?” The clear bewilderment makes Eren smile. 

“Of course. It’s not a secret.” Not most of it anyway.

“What does it feel like?” Ian prods. 

“When I shift?” Eren asks. “It’s like moving a puppet whilst seeing through its eyes. Or maybe like being in a weird and really big costume.”

Ian shakes his head. “No. I mean, like now.”

Met with an open, curious expression, Eren doesn’t know how to best respond. He can’t recall anyone except Hanji and his first Squad ever asking him this before, not even Levi. Levi always seemed to know how he felt once they were tuned in to each other’s company. The rest of his friends either didn’t much care for whatever reason or sensed enough. Enough to not want to ask, Eren muses. Not even Briar asked him yesterday. Then again, her inscrutable opal eyes scanned him with such grim recognition, maybe she doesn’t have to either. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “As far as I know, I feel emotions and pain just like you. Apart from that, I’m me. I don’t know how I’d feel without the Titans. I certainly wouldn’t be alive without them.”

“Really? How so?”

Eren sighs. Perhaps the advanced fading daylight helps with the mutual openness. Whereas the shadows were still long when they left the stables, by now the sun casts the sky into a darkening blue. They should head back soon if Eren doesn’t want to worry Levi for a second night this week. He can picture Levi showing up at HQ, seething for no reason and turning the place upside down to find him. 

“Because I did some reckless things during the war,” he answers. “I got swallowed by a Titan in my first battle. I would have died right there without my abilities.”

Ian frowns. “Aren’t you a war hero or something?”

Eren chuckles. “Honestly, Ian? I don’t feel like one. I have to live my life just like everyone else and make the best of it.”

“A second-year told me, you have to take a serum every month,” he says. “With needles and stuff.  He also said you can’t shift because of it. Is that true?”

A bird flies overhead and lands in a tree nearby with a craw, followed by a second. Black and white. A pair of magpies.

“It is,” Eren replies, wondering with whom from year two Ian might have talked. If he’d have to make a wild guess, he’d say Harold. Or Derek perhaps. “It keeps most of the side effects in check.”

“Side effects?” Ian asks further. “Do they hurt?”

Summoning a smile, Eren considers what to give away and what to better keep to himself. It’s not Briar he’s talking to. It’s a confused twelve-year-old. “I still heal when I’m injured and have the connection to the sources. But the Titans make me queasy and give me bad headaches sometimes.”

“But when it hurts, can’t you make it…I don’t know…” Ian shrugs. “Go away?”

Meraki looks at Eren with commiserating eyes, and he shakes his head. “No. We haven’t found a cure yet. The serum only keeps the Titans trapped inside of me so they cannot harm the rest of the world, Ian.”

“Would you take a cure if you could?” Ian asks. 

Thinking of Briar and Levi’s grey eyes observing him from across a brass counter, Eren swallows. If it only was that easy, he wants to say, yet nods as he keeps the answer to a simple “Yes.”

Nodding too, Ian chews on his lip before he asks, “Why does Colonel Claudio want you gone then?”

Smart kid, Eren thinks. “Because he doesn’t like what I am,” he says. 

It should be safe to give this much away. It’s not a secret after all, and if asked whether it was true, Claudio wouldn’t only agree, he’d do it with vehement vigour and add his own piece of mind.

Ian frowns. “But isn’t that against military rules? Arresting someone just because you don’t like them?”

Eren smiles, and this time it comes with an easy warmth spreading from his stomach to his face. “Even if it is, that doesn’t mean you and I don’t have to follow the rules, does it?” he says, silently asking himself where that sudden spark of diplomacy came from. He even managed to redirect the discussion to the initial problem. Armin would be proud.

“Yeah,” Ian sighs, his breath dissipating in a big expanding cloud. “All right.”

Meraki snuffles in wordless agreement and nudges Ian’s chin before licking his outstretched hand.

Staring at his fingers, Ian turns his horse-saliva-glistening hand. “Do you really think she’s warming up to me? It doesn’t feel like it.” 

Chuckling at the shock in Ian’s voice and expression, Eren regards Meraki’s continued pushy nuzzling against his shoulder. “Can’t you tell?”

Ian’s following smile as he wipes his hand before he continues to scratch Meraki’s ear is gentle and doting. “I think I can. Thank you.”

“Mm. Keep petting her like this, and she’ll be wrapped around your little finger for good in no time. Be kind to her. She’s seen enough bad stuff.”

“How do you know her so well?” Ian asks. “Like that thing with her ears?”

Eren smiles, his heart filled with memories. “Nobody told you? She was Captain Levi’s after he lost Lutz. He had her for years.”

Gaping, Ian falls quiet with a shake of his head, but his expression as he turns back to stroking Meraki is one of serious awe and commitment. 

“Instructor Eren?”

Biting back his amusement at the repentance in the tone, Eren meets Ian’s green-brown eyes in the greying evening light. “Yes, Ian.”

“I shouldn’t have said those things about you. You know…what Phillip hit me for. You’re not too bad.”

Eren grins. “I’m glad you’re giving me a chance,” he says and nudges his shoulder when Ian smiles. The sentiment might be directed at Meraki instead of him, but it is honest, and Eren will take what he gets. 

“I doubt Captain Levi would mind if you asked him any questions about how to care for her,” he adds. “She’s a good horse.”

“Can’t I come to you, Sir?” Ian asks. 

“Of course. If you want to. You can always come to my quarters or to the Sparrow. The cakes and drinks are good there by the way.”

Nodding, Ian takes a deep breath to say something, but it takes a second attempt until the words come out. “You know, my uncle is gay. I don’t mind. His husband is nice. Their dog is weird though.” He scrunches his face.

Giving his best not to chuckle, Eren hums. He wants to protest that he isn’t gay. At least, he thinks he isn’t. He wouldn’t mind if Levi was a woman, though trying to picture him as one feels like twisting his brain into knots. Either way, discussing this with a Trainee would be stepping over a line, and it’s not like he could explain anyway. 

“Thank you, Ian,” he says instead.

The look Ian grants Eren with when he glances up again, is one of such pure contrition and adolescent rebellion, Eren already knows the question before Ian opened his mouth. 

“Do I still have to write that essay and talk to the Commander? She’s scary.”

“Of course you do,” Eren says. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be the military’s standard punishment, would it?” Though he keeps his order strict, his voice remains mild with a lingering grin. “I want the essay by tomorrow morning. Two pages in reasonably-sized and legible handwriting. If you need anything for it, like ink or paper, there’s a supply closet in the room next to the Commander’s office. And remember the stables. I don’t want to hear about any problems with Phillip, all right?”

Ian nods. “I understand, Sir.”

“Good.” Eren gives Meraki’s neck a parting pat and moves towards Salka again who’s been observing them with an astonishing display of quiet composure. “Now come on, let’s go back. It’s getting cold and you need your dinner. You’re still growing.”

Ian withdraws from Meraki’s ears with a reluctant sigh, yet moves to mount the saddle. 

Maybe, Eren thinks with a smile as he watches Ian hold the reins a bit more relaxed than before, maybe his Trainees truly aren’t all that bad. Some only need a little push.

 

*

 

By the time Ian and Eren arrive back at HQ, Eren’s symptoms are back in full swing. They’ve been a tolerable unpleasantness at the back of his mind all day. Yet somewhere between Mia, Rita, and Harold, lunch, escaping the glares of Claudio’s men, Ian and Phillip, plus talking to Ian in the woods, Eren’s reserves waned, diminishing his resistance. 

With every careful step of Salka beneath him, the pounding in his head pounds builds, until it’s hard to keep watch on Ian riding before him. The movements of the world passing by in their slow trot hurt. The sounds of the hooves are like drum beats echoing in his skull. When they finally reach the stables, Eren struggles to not sway in his saddle. 

“Remember to report to the Commander after dinner,” Eren says as they dismount. His words are distant in his own ears, drowned out by the sneer of a compact, black-haired man standing nearby, surrounded by huge trees, while Eren is trapped. 

_ Did you enjoy it? Well, I’m enjoying this now. _

Shit. 

“Sir?” Ian asks. “You don’t look too good. Instructor Eren?”

_ Could we cut off your limbs? They’d grow back, right? _

Another man, a kid, the target,  _ him _ , yelling,  _ I’m going to kill you! _ before rupturing into a pointy-eared enemy with wild hair and a thundering roar.

“I’ll be fine, Ian,” Eren presses out as bones snap beneath his fingers like twigs bent too far. So weak. So fragile. “Just…” He squeezes his eyes shut and grips Salka’s reins in his hands until it hurts so he can focus on reality and lock the memories away. 

They’re Annie’s, he reminds himself. You only see them because they’re about you. Breathe.

He clears his throat. “Box Meraki, okay? And remember to report to the Commander after dinner.” Did he say this already? He isn’t sure. His voice is so weak. The world is like a hostile dream, smelling of resin, blood, and metal trying to creep beneath his skin.

This is why he doesn’t go into the woods with the kids on his own at the end of the month. He should have known better than to ride out today, even for this brief excursion. Ian needed help though. His gut told him this would be the right thing to do. Giving Ian some exercise, fresh air, and a secluded place to talk in quiet.

Levi is right. Eren does lack reasonable judgement in estimating his limits. 

A canteen is nudged into his hands, and Eren squints uncooperative eyes at Ian looking up at him. 

“Instructor Sasha said you all have ration supplies in your saddlebags. I…” he motions at Eren’s side where the flap of one saddle bag is loose. 

The gesture manages to bring Eren back, and he fastens his grip around the bottle with a faltering smile. “Thank you, Ian.”

Eren’s mare looks at him too. Her nose nudges against his head. 

He lifts a hand to pat her neck in a silent,  _ Thank you, Salka. _

“Do you need to sick up?” Ian asks. 

Hopefully not. Eren takes a gulp of water. It’s stale, but it’s cold and  _ real _ and it tastes like heaven. “No, Ian,” he says and takes another gulp before closing the bottle. “I just feel a bit dizzy, that’s all.”

“Okay.” Ian looks around before meeting Eren’s gaze again with a frown. “Should I take care of your horse, Sir?”

“No,” Eren replies and squeezes Ian’s shoulder. “I’m all right. Thank you. Come on. Let’s box them up together so you can have your supper.” 

Though feeling strengthened by the water, the migraine remains during stabling Salka. It numbs his body and causes his thoughts to slow as they struggle against Annie’s invading memories. 

When Salka snuffles and nudges against his chest with huffing nostrils, it takes Eren a moment to recognise the hard small pressure against his chest as what it is. 

The mint oil.

His fingers fumble with his jacket, feeling for the slick glass in his pocket. Levi put the vial there this morning, right before kissing him and leading him downstairs into the café. 

_ Use it, _ he said.

“I will,” Eren repeats his promise, screwing open the cap. 

The cooling effect on his temples sets in the moment the oil dabs meet his skin, the freshness rushing through his head, nose, and lungs. Eren sighs, blinking against the sharp scent as the air around him seems to shift. 

“Thank you, Salka,” he mumbles, putting the flask away. “Let’s hope it helps, hm?”

Though the mint makes it easier to separate Annie’s memories from his own, they remain a constant throb in the back of Eren’s mind, spurred on by the splitting headache. Together, they pound against his skull during brushing Salka down and feeding her, the dread from the Forest of Giant Trees keeping Eren company on his way to Hanji’s office.

Claudio greets him with an ill-tempered twitch of his blond moustache and a pained gasp when he twists to see who entered the room. His expression tells Eren he’s set to kill, yet that’s nothing new. Right now, Eren also doesn’t care.

He contents himself with ignoring the Colonel as best as he can, apart from a salute including the mandatory, “Good evening, Sir.”

Hanji seems to notice Eren’s state the moment she looks up at him. Her mouth smiles at his sight, yet her eyes scrutinise him with concern. “How was your day, Eren?” she asks. “Do you have anything to report?”

Hyper-aware of Claudio glaring at him to his right—spine bent, breath heavy, face red, and wheezing with discomfort every time he changes his position—Eren blinks through the worst of his pain. Mia’s secret is safe with him, Tom will report Sasha, and Ian is a matter he’d rather not bring up in this full round. 

Hence he shakes his head and suppresses a little wince when the motion makes the world spin. “No, Commander.” He swallows. “Not much. Only that I’d like to make use of the new directive and take tomorrow afternoon off. Do I have to sign for it somewhere?”

“No, we will deal with that once the official documents are done.” Her brown eyes narrow behind glasses nearly as greasy as her hair. Despite his foggy thoughts, Eren muses her bath can’t come quickly enough. He’d truly drag her home with him right now if he could. 

“Are you unwell?” she asks. “Because that will be a sick day then.”

“I’ll be fine,” Eren insists, left hand stretching out three fingers twice to indicate a six on his pain scale to Hanji. “But I’ll be better with some additional rest.”

“Of course,” Hanji says with an understanding frown. “It’s what the new directive is for anyway. Instructor Connie will take over your classes?”

Eren gives a careful nod. “Yes, and Instructor Sasha will help him. To get to know the drills we’ve been teaching.”

“Splendid.”

“We have some more news for you, Eren,” Historia says. “Mainly more refinements regarding your and Armin’s health plan…”

As he lets her ratter it all down, Eren stares at the puff sleeves of her pale regal dress, and wonders how much like clouds they look. Pretty clouds to sleep in, like the soft, fluffy cushions in Levi’s bed. Their bed. 

It takes the rapped knock-knock-knock from the door and Claudio’s wheeze from his right to pull Eren out of his reverie. He zoned out. 

The door opens, and Eren thinks he shouldn’t be surprised anymore when the storm in his brain eases the moment he senses Levi’s presence at his back. The throbbing sensation is still there, though the reeling thoughts come to a halt. 

“Your evening delivery, Commander,” Levi says, brushing Eren’s side as he passes. 

His coat swishes behind him, pronouncing his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Fresh winter crispness surrounds him like a shield, and Eren wishes he could just hug him and go home. The mumbled curses from his right only fortify his yearning to leave. Or to punch the Colonel in his ugly face. Or both.

Eren balls his fists to keep them to himself.

“Ah, good evening, Levi,” Hanji says, throwing her arms in the air at the sight of his care package. “We were awaiting you.” 

“Mm,” he replies, placing the bundle onto her desk before turning to Historia. “Your Highness. I packed you evening tea today. I think it will be to your liking.”

“Thank you, Levi.” She smiles a toothy smile that prickles on Eren’s arms, yet before she can say anything further, Levi speaks on. 

“I think we have things to discuss, you and I. Would you come to the Sparrow tomorrow? Noon would be suitable if you don’t want many witnesses.” 

Perking up, Claudio gasps, wheezes in pain, then gasps once more. Meanwhile, Hanji is busy with her first cup of evening coffee and seems to pay Levi’s audacity to more or less summon the Queen by his own conditions no attention whatsoever. She even hums to herself.

Levi ignores them both. “I would come here, of course, but Fridays are always busy at the café. And in the evening, Eren needs proper care and…” he pauses before he finishes with innuendo in his voice, “attention.”

Neck heating, Eren tries his best to blend out Hanji’s enthused nodding and Erika’s quiet snicker. The insinuation is more than worth Claudio’s renewed gasping at Eren’s side, but really. 

“Of course,” Historia says in Christa’s sugary chime that makes the air taste like honey and Eren’s skull pound. “I plan to visit the orphanages nearby over the weekend, but I think I can squeeze in a piece of cherry pie before that.”

“I’m looking forward to entertaining you then,” Levi says with a voice just as falsely bright as Historia’s, and oh, Eren thinks, Levi is mad. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up Historia’s impending wedding decree the night before. Yet before Eren can wonder about it too much, Levi turns to Hanji, tone back to pure politeness. “Do you still need Eren, Commander? I’d like to take him home. He needs his dinner.” 

Emerging from her cup of coffee, Hanji shakes her head. “I don’t think so.” She looks into the round while her hands grasp for the coffee flask to refill her cup. “My Queen? Colonel?”

“No, Commander,” Historia says, the sweet Christa smile still displaying her straight white teeth. 

Claudio balls his fists. “I should retreat too.”

“Of course,” Hanji says. Though she didn’t seem to know about the reason for Claudio’s injury when Eren brought her breakfast, it’s clear she does now. “You must feel so uncomfortable by now, Colonel. But are you sure you don’t want to take your seat? We could unwind together with some…oh, look at this, it’s cinnamon rolls!” She whoops, holding one of the pastries under her nose as though needing to inspect it closer. “They are amazing, Colonel! You wouldn’t know the lengths Levi took to perfecting them with his baker. Eren loves them too, isn’t that right, Eren?” 

Tearing his eyes away from Levi’s strong back and silky undercut, Eren forces a small, wavering smile. “They’re great, yes.”

“No,” Claudio grinds out. “I’m good.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Levi says. He approaches Eren with observant grey eyes pinning him in place and frowns as they search his face with instant understanding.

_ I’m all right, _ Eren gestures. 

Though Levi’s eyes darken, he nods. “Ready?” he asks, adding a silent,  _ Careful? _

Eren smiles at him with another slow nod, blood heating up. “Yes, Captain.”

“Mm,” Levi says, lips quirking in a smile a second before they meet Eren’s in a kiss so gentle it tears a sound from Eren’s heart, completely against his will. 

His toes curl in his boots, his stomach tightens, his hands feel for Levi’s woollen coat lapels, and he really, really wishes they were alone so he could let Levi unravel him. He longs to give himself over. To forget. They aren’t alone, though, and as the broken yelp at their side hammers that in, Eren pulls back far too soon, brushing his nose over Levi’s before they part. It’s far too soon. 

Levi’s hand finds his, and Eren laces their fingers in a wordless squeeze.  _ Take me home. _

Squeezing back, Levi turns to Hanji who beams at them over her coffee cup which seems to be forgotten as it sends out a steady plume of steam fogging her glasses. Historia meanwhile dissects a cinnamon roll and appears to be unfazed, while Erika looks at Eren and imitates a swoon in her seat. 

Eren bites on the inside of his cheek and averts his gaze towards his feet to contain his amusement. Erika doesn’t even know half of it. His entire body tingles. Even his head feels lighter. Maybe Briar was right about the physical contact helping after all. 

“Eren informed you he’ll take the afternoon off tomorrow?” Levi asks. “We think he needs the rest.”

“He told us, yes,” Hanji says, setting down her cup with a knock. “It is important Eren is feeling well after all. We wouldn’t have him be ill. If you want to thank someone though, I think it should be the Colonel for giving his final okay it.”

“Is that so?” Reddened lips still wet with Eren’s saliva, Levi faces Claudio, hand holding on to Eren’s. “Thank you for your support on the matter, Colonel. I heard what happened last night. My condolences. I always loathed the beds in the Survey Corps bases. Barely used them for sleep at all. We have someone who could help with the ache. Someone professional. Should we send them to you?”

“It’s not that bad,” Claudio snaps, his eyes darting between Eren, Levi, and their linked hands. “I don’t need coddling.”

Levi shrugs. “Well, let us know if you change your mind, Colonel. Good evening.” He takes one look over his shoulder. “Your Highness. Commander. See you tomorrow. Have a good night, Erika.”

Lifting her cup with coffee in a toast, Erika snorts. “You bet, Captain!”

Eren salutes, and left hand holding on tight to Levi’s right, he follows him out of the room.

“How bad?” Levi asks a few steps down the corridor, tugging Eren to the side and looking at him. 

“A six,” Eren admits, adding before Levi can ask, “I didn’t want to say it out loud with Claudio there, but Hanji knows.”

Levi’s lips pinch together as he nods. “You drank all the infusion?”

“I did. It started about an hour ago.”

“Then let’s get you the fuck out of here. You can bring the thermos back home tomorrow.” He pulls Eren along, rounding a corner as he asks, “Hectic day?”

Eren huffs a laugh and rubs his sore eyes with his free hand. He winces when it hurts his head. “You could say that.”

“I heard about Mia,” Levi says. A small twitch of his lips hints at a smile, though he keeps it tight under control as they continue on their way in favour of scowling at everyone who could dare to come closer. 

“Gave me a surprise this morning,” Eren says. “Did they stand outside?”

“They did,” Levi says. “Were awaiting me, actually. I sent them to dinner. They’re still growing.”

Eren nods and breathes in Levi’s proximity. “I told them you'd come after finding out…well…you know.”

“Mm. So Mia said.”

“I also told them to put more efforts into Training,” Eren says. 

“Good call.” 

The affirmation makes something ease and tingle in Eren’s chest and some part of the tension he’s been feeling in his neck since morning abates with an exhale. “Good.” 

Levi’s hand squeezes his, and Eren smiles at his moving feet. 

“I heard Mikasa had to drag Sasha out of the mess hall today?” Levi asks. Of course, he heard. 

Eren snorts. “Some things never change.” 

“Did she take yours?”

“No,” Eren sighs at the sharp edge to Levi’s question. “Well…she snatched Jean’s portion, so I gave him my first, but–” 

He expects Levi to stop at the words, and hence isn’t yanked back as he pauses in his steps as well. 

“You did what!” Grey eyes flash with danger. Levi’s hand lets go.

“Jean looked tired too, and he didn’t even want to take it,” Eren says, refusing to cross his arms or let himself be scolded for this. “I had seconds, though, plus what you gave me afterwards, aside from some nuts, and I didn’t want the argument. It was too loud.” Pain bursts behind his eyes, and he blinks it away. “It was just too loud,” he repeats. 

Levi frowns, regret flitting across his face. “Sorry.”

“No.” Eren shakes his head before he can remember jolting his brain when it hurts is not a good idea. He rubs his face with an unsteady hand. “It’s just…can we please just go home? I don’t want to fight about this. You’re right to be angry, but I just can’t right now.”

Levi looks around, a finger tapping at his side, tap-tap-tap against his thigh. His nose wrinkles in unspoken apology. “Where’s your office?” 

“But you just said–”

“Where?”

Eren looks down at his feet. “One floor above your old one.” 

Levi pauses, and Eren doesn’t have to look to know he lifts an eyebrow. 

“Yeah. Hanji…” Eren swallows with a weak shrug. “She wanted me to have yours first but…” he trails off, unable to finish the sentence. 

It occurs to him here and now, how weird this situation is. When Levi and he last stood together in this old castle, they both were so afraid to talk to each other. Eren always excused himself the moment silence fell between them, and every interaction hurt. 

Stupid, Eren thinks for the umpteenth time, wishing he could erase the lost years and wasted opportunities. He remembers the day of their return from the ocean, thinks of his relief about seeing Levi, and about reentering HQ with his heart so full it nearly burst. Then Hanji had given him the key to Levi’s office, and though Eren first accepted, the moment he opened the door, he was enveloped by Levi’s scent. 

It hit him like a punch to his guts and he had to sit down, right there in the entrance, hurting all over with memories, shattered friendship, and a yearning for…something. He wanted it back. He wanted their friendship back. Their evening tea, their chess nights, their conversations. Levi’s quietness grounding him. He wouldn’t even have minded the war starting again if he could just have it all back. He was so ashamed for that thought. Even more ashamed for searching Levi’s quarters for anything reminding him of all that, once he’d collected himself. Then he’d seen Levi’s bed, curled up in it, dragged in Levi’s dust-diluted yet still present scent, and slept. 

He should have known right then, he thinks. Sooner even. So much sooner. Yet he should have known  _ then _ . Instead, he asked for a different key. 

When he thinks back to their first night together now…

Levi’s hand steals its way back into his own, calloused and cool, fingers squeezing his, and the renewed contact makes Eren gulp as Levi softly says, “Come on, then.” 

His eyes are a clear grey, and Eren doesn’t even know where Levi is taking him, but he doesn’t care. It’s Levi. It will be all right. 


	17. His Heart

Stepping into Eren’s office is like opening a gate to the past. It started on the way there—it’s almost the same as Levi remembers, except from one additional flight of stairs, and it’s Eren who opens the door with a concentrated frown on his face. The atmosphere between them is different from what it used to be as well. Apart from that, everything’s the same.   

The room has the same standard desk and standard military furniture. The adjacent kitchen is the same, with the same hooks on the board, a similar kettle on the stove, the same cupboards lining the wall. The light is the same. As is the distinctive whiff of soap, and a striking lack of dust. To the left, there’s the same corridor leading to the bedroom and bath. The floor is the same, aside from a few different scrapes. The view of the advancing nightfall from the window is the same too, if slightly crooked due to another angle. Even the oil lamp on Eren’s desk stands at the same place Levi’s used to be.

It is so much the same, the familiar tight knots from back then creep into Levi’s body, constricting his chest and speeding up his breath. Yet then, the scents of Magda’s chicken dish and a faint trace of minty ginger fill Levi’s lungs, mingle with a characteristic sunniness that’s all Eren, and the present settles around him. 

“I…um…” Eren says, clearing his throat. “I didn’t know how else to organise things.”

Levi can picture it. Eren glowering at the empty office, the haggard lines he wore after the ocean on his face, raking his hand through his short hair, and eventually deciding to best go with what he knows would work. 

They’ve never much talked about that time. Always made a wide berth around what happened while Eren was away, and Eren’s private struggles with settling back into a life at HQ. Eren became fidgety and broody whenever a conversation drifted in that direction, and Levi didn’t want to push. Not even Hanji mentioned offering Levi’s old office to Eren, despite her usually so eager efforts to tell Levi about everything going on. He wonders whether Eren decided right away he wanted to live somewhere else or not. Either scenario twists a knife somewhere behind Levi’s ribs, urging him to protect. 

Blinking away his absorption, Levi places a reassuring hand on the small of Eren’s back, sensing the worst tension in Eren’s muscles ease at the touch. A moment later, Eren’s palm comes to a rest on Levi’s spine, and Levi’s own shoulders relax as well. 

Eren sways slightly, face distorting into a stubborn grimace, and Levi recalls why they are here.

“You have some snacks left, you said?” he asks, nudging Eren inside.

“Yes. That chocolate bar from yesterday and some nuts. I kept them for emergencies.”

It feels like an emergency now. 

“Good,” Levi says, closing the door behind them before slipping from his winter coat. 

“What are you doing?” Eren asks, big eyes struggling to keep their focus. 

“You,” Levi replies, “are laying down a bit.” 

“But…” Eren scratches his neck, looking around in the room as if searching for clues. As if it wasn’t his office. Not his quarters he’s been living in for over a year. “What about dinner?” 

“You have snacks, and we can eat later. Come on. Out of these boots.” Unwrapping his scarf, Levi hangs it over a hook together with his coat. He removes his shoes too, setting them next to the door.

Eren remains in the entrance, looking lost. Then his gaze finds Levi’s, and he nods. “Oh. Okay.” Shimmying out of his jacket, he hangs it on a second hook beside Levi’s coat, toes out of his boots, and appraises his harness, giving a brief shrug before unwrapping from it as well.

Levi steps into the kitchen to enkindle the fire beneath the stove. “Where are Briar’s herbs?”

“With the other tea utensils,” Eren replies over the clicking of his buckles. 

Levi opens the cupboard. After being greeted by a similar collection of pots and pans as he had in the same cupboard a floor below, he retrieves a small, shiny copper pot. He closes the door, opening another cupboard on a hunch, and stills. 

Eren’s caddies stand in a neat row, and Levi doesn’t have to check to know what they each contain; Gunpowder, Assam for Hanji, and a small selection of dried herbs. Next to it lies one of Briar’s bundles. Levi opens it and starts his work, counting off dried ginger slices to prepare the infusion.

Meanwhile, Eren has hung up his gear. He scuffles behind Levi, folds his long arms around him, and buries his nose in Levi’s hair as he lets out a shuddering breath against his scalp. Leaning on him.

“See you found everything,” he mumbles. 

“Not hard when everything’s in the same place.” 

Despite the welcomed familiarity, something about it feels wrong. It’s one thing to have the furniture stand where Eren deemed fit. Yet this is Eren’s place, and apart from some different objects than Levi used to have and its slightly different scent, Eren’s influence seems to miss this room. Even regarding his soldier status. 

“How long, Eren?” Levi asks, unsure of what exactly it is he’s asking about.  _ How long have our places looked like each others’? For how long have you been living in the past? How long have you loved me? _

Eren’s chuckle against the top of his head sounds dark. “Don’t ask. I’m feeling stupid.”

That word again. Setting aside the rewrapped bundle with ginger, Levi turns in Eren’s arms to look at him. “You’re not stupid.” 

A weak smile tugs on the corners of Eren’s mouth. “Still feel like it sometimes.” 

His eyes look tired and haunted. Their usually so bright green diluted by murky shadows Levi wishes he could cast out. He’ll at least try.

Holding Eren’s gaze as he goes up on his tiptoes, he tugs on Eren’s nape to pull him down into a kiss, slow, drawn out, and searching. Eren answers with a sigh, melting against Levi’s lips and meeting his tongue with gentle swipes. Levi takes his time, tangling his fingers in Eren’s hair as he deepens the kiss with tenderness coiling tight inside his chest, until Eren shudders and pulls away.

“Okay, I have to sit,” he admits. 

Though his smile looks like it’s coming easier and the worst shadows in his eyes have lifted, Eren isn’t well. Something must have happened today. He also smells like forest, though he said he would only have indoor lessons this morning. 

Brushing a dishevelled strand of hair out of Eren’s face, Levi lets him step back. “Where’s the mint oil?” he asks. 

Eren gestures at the arrangement of clothes hanging on a hook at the entrance. “In my jacket. I used it earlier. I…” He clears his throat as he scratches his head. “It seems to help with the memories. A bit.”

“Lie down,” Levi says. “Rest. I’ll make the infusion meanwhile.”

“I’d rather stay here with you,” Eren says as he shuffles to the pantry. He scratches his head again while he stares at the shelves before grasping some rations, including the nuts Levi packed this morning, the chocolate, and a flat cylindrical tin. Piling everything in his arms, he moves towards the table and plops down on his chair, as if his feet were giving out beneath him. 

Though he frowns, Levi doesn’t comment and instead focuses on preparing Eren’s medicine. He throws the required amount of ginger slices into the pot with already boiling water and opens the parcel with peppermint.

“Thank you,” Eren says into the silence. 

When Levi peers at him over his shoulder, his tired eyes look back, his chin resting in his palm, elbow propped up on the tabletop. The lines on his face are deeper this evening than Levi would like them to be. Not quite as deep as Monday and different from when Eren returned from the ocean, but they carry a resemblance to both. There’s also a curve to Eren’s back that comes a bit too close to caves, losses, and despair.

“If you’re not feeling better by morning, you’ll take the entire day off.” 

Eren nods. “I will.”

The lack of resistance prickles on Levi’s skin, raising his hackles as he returns the nod. “Eat,” he says. Maybe it will help. 

Sitting up, Eren complies, rustling the chocolate wrapping. 

The ginger water has reduced enough, and Levi pulls it from the hearth, rubbing the dried mint leaves between his fingers as he adds them to the brew. Their scent bursts in the air, its freshness rushing up Levi’s nose, easing the tight knots in his head, though the worry remains as he turns the sand glass. 

It doesn’t help Eren is still occupied unwrapping his treat, scowling at the paper and tinfoil as if they did him some great injustice. 

“Need to talk about it?” Levi asks, declining with a wave of his hand when Eren offers him the first small piece of chocolate.

“No.” He shrugs, popping the treat into his mouth to suck on. “Don’t know,” he mumbles. “Tell me about your day. You already seem to know almost everything about mine anyway.” A small smile fights its way onto his face. “It’s not fair you’ve got spies and I don’t.”

The comment makes Levi smirk. “Maybe you just ask the wrong people for information,” he counters. 

It’s true. If Eren talked more to Tom or asked his friends different questions than he does, and if he’d only listen more closely to what people are saying, he’d have an information network just as strong as Levi’s. Maybe an even stronger one, considering people actually like talking to Eren. 

“Oh yeah?” Eren says. “Maybe you just…ah, no. Forget it. It sounded better in my head.” He falls silent, a multitude of emotions raging over his face like a storm. Amusement, irritation, sadness.

“Lots going on up there,” Levi prods. 

Eren sighs. “Too much today, yeah.” His fingers catch the emptied wrapper on the tabletop, starting to smooth it out with concentrated diligence. “Please, tell me something so it shuts up. Anything.”

Levi can do that. All he’s been hearing today is gossip. 

“A fox killed Marion’s best layer last night,” he begins.

“Oh no!” Eren says, looking up from his task with wide eyes. “Olivia’s dead?”

Amused against his will, Levi lifts an eyebrow as warmth settles in the pit of his stomach. Wherever Eren is with his thoughts this evening, he’s still in there somewhere. Fierce, kind, and caring. Outshining even the darkness in his own head. 

Not for the first time, Levi wonders how someone this bright can be so forlorn and still give hope to others. Simply by existing and showing his sympathy for something as inconsequential as some hens being gone, even after everything he’s been through. It makes Levi’s heart ache.

He nods. “Her and some others, yes.”

“That’s so sad. Marion always praised her eggs.”

Levi has heard the story of the evil fox and poor Marion’s hens from morning until afternoon, in multiple ways. All this time he’s nodded, counted each retelling, and only felt gratitude about the reprieve on the wedding talk. They were just hens. It’s how life goes. There will be other Olivias. Now that Eren looks at him though with sorrowful wide eyes, it’s the first time Levi feels more about the news than exasperation about going through it yet again. 

“Yes,” he says, heart melting in his chest at Eren’s devastated face. “Very sad. Eat your nuts.”

Eren leans forward and unties the knot around the small muslin bag. 

Smiling at him, Levi checks on the sandglass before fetching a tea cup, a sieve, and a tea towel as he continues. “There’s also the opinion going around I should supply you with a bucket full of chicken stock since you certainly caught that cold going around.”

Humming, Eren crunches on some nuts. “Mum used to make it when we were sick. Swore on it, actually.” His voice trails off, and Levi thinks it’s best to divert. 

“Ilaida probably got scolded for coming home late again today.”

This comment finally makes Eren snort. “No surprise there. Prattling again?”

“You know it.” The sand in the hourglass has run out, and Levi pours the infusion through the sieve. “Katinka was over and told me to elope with you. Well, more or less.”

“That would be nice,” Eren sighs. “But this is our town. It’s our home. Plus it would look as though we were ashamed. I’m not.”

“Mm.” After the herbs give away each precious drop, Levi puts the sieve into the sink and brings Eren his cup, carding his fingers through the messy brown strands. 

Pausing in his task of fishing for some hazelnuts between the walnuts and almonds, Eren smiles up at him. “Join me?”

Levi hums. “After I’ve cleaned the pot.”

Stepping back to the sink, Levi clears away all evidence of infusion making, adding the depleted herbs to the compost and rinsing the pot. He’s drying the dented sieve when a small hole in the otherwise spotless wall catches his attention. It’s slightly above his eye level, and for some reason he can’t explain, it compels him to reach up and run a fingertip over the marking in the wood. 

“I hung up the napkin the night you gave it to me.” 

Levi turns to look at Eren, who blinks as his face blooms with colour. The pink hue does wonders to his pallid complexion, adding a warm shine underpinned by the almost bashful smile twitching on his lips. 

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” he asks, fingers fumbling with an almond. “I didn’t mean to. But I did. Hang it up, I mean.”

An aching smile twitches on Levi’s lips. “Was that before or after Hanji was here?”

“After.” Eren frowns again. “I dreamt about the woods after she left and…” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Felt right.” 

They look at each other for a while before Eren clears his throat and blows over the hot brew in his cup. “So what else is new?” He slurps, steam rising before his face.

Breaking eye contact, Levi resumes drying the pot and sieve. “I found help for the café,” he says. “Maybe.”

“You did? Who?” 

“Diane. I ran into her.”

China knocks on wood as Eren sets down his infusion. “The scarf lady?”

Levi smiles at the phrasing, setting the pot aside as he reaches for the sieve. “Hm. Saw her buy cheap tea at Donna’s. She needs money for meds. I need an employee. Maybe we can help each other out. I told her to come over on Saturday. Will relieve you and me both should it work out, I guess,” he explains. “I want you to meet her though before deciding anything. It won’t work when you and her don’t get alo–…fuck!” he curses when a sob sounds behind him, ripping him out of his musings. “Eren.”

Sieve and towel fall to the floor as Levi dashes to Eren curling into a ball on his chair, shaking and gasping as if he were running out of air. He’s been sitting in a twisted position, legs both beside the table, probably to watch Levi better. 

“What’s wrong?” Levi asks, squatting down between his knees, catching Eren’s face between his hands. 

It’s already wet with tears spilling out of Eren’s big green eyes, falling and falling, two large drops reaching Levi’s fingers, running down his hands, his wrists, his forearms, soaking his cuffs. 

“Why,” Eren gasps, “why…” Tears bead in his long eyelashes as he sniffs and blinks and heaves. A second later, scars appear on his cheeks. Blood streams out of his nose. 

“Shit,” Levi hisses through his constricting throat, one hand letting go of Eren’s face to reach for the handkerchief in his pockets so he can wipe away the red-streaked mucus. Meanwhile, Eren’s hands bunch up Levi’s sleeves as he heaves. 

“Why are you so kind to me?” Eren whimpers between heavy breaths that rock his whole body, and the words are like glass breaking in Levi’s heart, splintering into a thousand shards that spike and spear anything they can find. 

“It’s all right. You don’t have to talk,” he says, but Eren doesn’t listen.

“I feel like I don’t deserve it. I feel like this stupid hurtful being and you keep doing all these wonderful things for me to make it easier, and I don’t know what to say. I don’t. I’ve been trying to keep it all in but I can’t…I can’t…” His hands tear at his shirt, as if he wanted to claw his chest. 

“You don’t have to try. Don’t.” 

He should have seen this coming, Levi thinks, wiping away more snot and blood so it won’t run into Eren’s mouth. He should have been ready for this. Should have been prepared for this kind of outburst. In hindsight, it’s been sneaking up on them for days. 

Any other person would have snapped under this week’s pressure long ago. Eren has been so strong. He pulled through Monday’s strain, and Tuesday’s worries. Through Wednesday and an intense talk with Briar. He fought his way through today, keeping his Trainees in check with a headache going. All whilst ensuring Levi would have to worry as little as possible, constantly keeping Levi up to date about everything, and making sure he wouldn’t cause anyone trouble. He even took care of Levi and his stupid foot most of last night. It’s high time for something like this to happen, yet the life blood streaming out of Eren’s nose hints at more than simple pressure release. As do the bulging markings on his cheeks. Levi thought they were quelled with the serum.

“Tell me where it hurts, Eren,” Levi says, trying to keep his voice composed, his head focused. “Is it the symptoms?”

“Fuck the symptoms!” he yells. “I want them gone. I want all of it gone!”

I know, Levi thinks, looking at the face he loves and wishing he could take every bit of pain he sees there into himself. All he can do is give his best to make it more bearable, however. 

“Did Claudio do something to you today?” he asks in lack of anything else to say and wanting to kill someone for this. Slowly and precise. It would be easy too. So easy. He’d enjoy every second of it. “Did he hurt you?”

Eren shakes his head, hands clasping tight around Levi’s arms as he whimpers. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” Levi says, rubbing his thumb over Eren’s tear-and-scar-streaked cheek. 

His ears start to steam, and as Eren gasps for air, more comes out of his mouth, only to be sucked right back in again. Seems like Briar was right about the swelling in Eren’s brain. 

Levi presses his lips together, wiping more crimson-tinted snot off Eren’s upper lip before setting the drenched handkerchief aside onto the floor. At least Eren nose has stopped bleeding like a spigot.

“Levi…” Shiny green eyes search Levi’s and flow over. “I missed you.”

“Today? I’m here.” 

Eren shakes his head, more vehement than before. “A year ago. I was so stupid. I never should have left.” The words come wounded and wet, interrupted by convulsing choking sounds. “I never should have hurt you like I did. Your bed still smelled like you, and you looked so sad all the time…and…I wanted to make it go away– You’re my best friend.”

“Eren.” Levi swallows, trying to catch up with the rambling. “Eren stop.” Searching Eren’s eyes, he finds them brimming with despair so rankling, it’s like looking at a ghost. It’s like a younger version of Eren has slipped into his body, obscuring the grown-up man—the Eren who pinned Levi with bright determination not even twenty-four hours ago and told Levi right to his face he’d show him how much Levi meant to him.

Levi needs to show Eren too, and as he thinks of how to guide Eren back to himself, he realises maybe the answer is as simple as that. The naked truth, conveyed by contact and warmth. 

“Look at me,” Levi says, running his thumbs over Eren’s wet cheekbones. He waits until Eren’s glossy eyes gaze straight back at him, and without breaking the eye contact or leaving his squatting position on the floor, Levi unbuttons his shirt. 

“What…” A hiccup shakes Eren when Levi reaches for his hand to place it on his exposed chest, there where the glass shards still sting in his racing heart. 

He presses Eren’s palm close against his skin that barely feels the cool winter chill, while his other touches Eren’s chest in return. “Can you hold onto my neck?” he asks, rubbing over the spot and shoving aside the worry about Eren’s pulse pounding against the touch. 

Shuddering, Eren nods, snuffles, and leans forward, arms winding around Levi’s shoulders. “Levi.”

“Hold on,” Levi says, gripping Eren’s hips to press them against him, kissing Eren’s ear when his legs instantly wrap around his waist. “Good boy.”

Shifting his weight under the altered balance, Levi rises to his feet, feeling relief rush into his veins when Eren holds on so tight it’s as if he wanted them to merge. Abandoning Eren’s medicine on the table, he carries him into the bedroom, carefully placing Eren on the mattress and closing the door before undressing them both in the dark, leaving on only their drawers. 

“Scoot,” he says as he lowers himself to the bed, slipping under the blanket and allowing Eren to scuttle near.

“You’re here,” Eren whispers, blinking up at him with another hiccup interrupting his words. He sniffs.

Levi tugs him closer. “Not going anywhere.”

Face distorting with another sob, Eren hugs him tight, nuzzles into Levi’s chest. Legs intertwining, nails biting into his back. Seconds pass in sniffling silence, with Levi cradling Eren against him, before the shakes set back in, rocking them both so hard the bed protests beneath them. Levi lets it happen, allows the wetness against his skin and Eren’s big hands clinging on for dear life.

Aside from a few wheezes, Eren remains quiet as he weeps, and Levi strokes his spine, his nape, the back of his head, as he presses his nose deep into Eren’s unruly hair, dragging in his scent. 

Eren, Levi thinks as hot sorrow seeps against him, has always been volatile. Sometimes Levi wonders if this is why Eren managed to sneak past his stoic guards in the first place. Or maybe Eren chipped them off. Little stone after little stone. Building up the shields behind him again whilst constantly pushing forward until he stood beside Levi’s bare core, surrounded by adamantine walls raised over decades. By the time Levi realised what Eren had done to him, how much he’d changed him, it was too late to push Eren back out. It would have been like losing a limb.

Ever since, Levi has relied on Eren to be emotional. He needs Eren to be. Since Levi is not. 

He needs Eren to yell for the both of them, to roar against injustice, to smile at the sun, and to mourn over killed chickens, with his heart on his sleeve. Levi needs Eren to be angry, longs for him to act on whatever passion rips to the surface most. No matter how dark, or ugly, or how blindingly beautiful; Levi wants to bathe in them all. Craves Eren to make him stumble by throwing laughter between his legs or taunt him with cocky comments Levi wouldn’t allow anyone else to even think in his presence. And maybe, Levi muses as Eren lets go right against his jaded soul, maybe he needs Eren to cry for them both as well. 

They’ve come so far in the past fortnight, it’s almost easy to forget how it was before Eren leapt onto Levi’s hand that fateful Thursday evening. Before Eren stayed for the first night. Or even before Eren moved into their flat. 

How often did Eren lie in this bed, unable to sleep, maybe even in pain? Did he feel alone? Was he confused? How often did he have nightmares with no one to console him afterwards? Humanity’s Hope, hopeless.

How often did Eren wake up in this bed, trapped in the night after their one-night stand, feeling Levi in his arms, and slipping out of the dream with pain slashing his body? Every day? Every second day? 

Not that knowing this would change much or help. Even one single day of Eren waking up this way would have been too much. These kind of clouded awakenings were the good ones for Levi, yet Levi wasn’t confused or deluded about loving Eren. He knew he longed for this, for holding Eren, for feeling him in his arms, only separated by their skin, muscles, and bones. Which didn’t save him from having his own moment of reality pulling the floor away from beneath his feet the week before.

Walking around with a doubt like this for years, to finally find the solutions with all the puzzle pieces clicking into place, and slipping into a life together as easily as they had and still are. It must be mind-boggling for anyone. For someone like Eren, though, it must be overpowering.

Cry, my heart, Levi thinks as Eren sobs on in the small chamber that smells like desolate grief and bleak loneliness. I’m never letting you go again. 

 

*

 

“I soaked the mattress,” Eren says when he pulls away. His eyes are shining in the near blackness of the evening, his voice is rasping with shed tears.

“It’s just a mattress,” Levi replies. 

Eren sniffs. “How long have we been here?”

Frowning at the question, Levi brushes wild strands out of Eren’s puffy yet scar-free face. Steam rises from it, curling upwards before dissipating in the pale moonlight. “As long as you had to.” 

Nuzzling into the touch, Eren swallows. “Felt long.”

Levi hums. He doesn’t know how much time passed. It was long enough for Eren’s tears to run out until there was nothing but dry heaving, and for some stars in the window to move a bit across the firmament. 

“Did it help?” Levi asks. 

“Don’t know yet.” Eren sniffs and clears his throat. “My whole head is clogged and feels like someone squished it to mush. But better too. The pressure is gone.”

“Mm.”

Red-rimmed, steaming eyes blink up at Levi. “Sorry.”

Tracing a tear-streaked cheekbone with his thumb, Levi looks back. Though he did his best to wipe any traces of blood and mucus off Eren’s face in the kitchen, he didn’t catch every drop, and the area around Eren’s nose and mouth is still dark with smeared crimson. “Don’t be.”

Eren peers at Levi’s chest, wet with salty sorrow and blood-tinged snot. “But I–”

“Don’t be,” Levi insists and pinches Eren’s earlobe to make it sink in. “Don’t you dare hold back,” he repeats Eren’s words from the night before. “Not with me.”

Eren gulps and buries his face into the crook of Levi’s shoulder, arms holding on tight in a thankful squeeze. Another sniff shakes him, and his drawn-out exhale goes ragged against Levi’s skin, yet the previous anguish in it is gone. 

Letting Eren find back to his regular breath, Levi holds him close in return, keeping track of the stars on the night sky for a little bit longer.

“Did you really ask Diane for help?” Eren asks after a while. His voice is muffled by Levi’s chest, but sounds less watery than before.

“Not yet,” Levi replies. He wouldn’t want an employee who clashes with Eren. He didn’t even tell Diane why he asked her over on Saturday, wanting to give Eren the final say.

“Do you think it will work out?” Eren asks. 

“We’ll see.”

Eren leans back a bit, blinking up at Levi. Eyelashes still clumped with tears. “No, what do you think?”

Levi smiles. Diane is a thoughtful, cordial person. Practical, not too nosy. She is good at talking to people, and sensible. Eren will be thrilled. “That it will work out.”

“That’s good. Then it will.” 

It’s said with so much confidence, Levi has to swallow before he replies. “I’ll still kick her out should you not get along.”

“We will. I’m looking forward to meeting her.” Eren snuggles back into their embrace. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

Despite the early evening, this section of HQ is quiet, void of soldiers, all eating in the mess hall now, chattering about their day, stomping around, and pulling pranks. It’s so silent here the only thing Levi can hear are his and Eren’s breaths, his eased heartbeat, and the rustling of the bed sheets whenever one of them moves. 

The mattress is narrow. Made for one single person, maybe a bit more. But not for two grown men to lie comfortably without being so close they’re slotted against each other. Not that Levi minds. Eren is warm in his arms and has stopped crying. That’s all that matters. 

“It’s weird with you here,” Eren mumbles. 

“The bed is too small.”

Eren chuckles. “No. I mean, yeah, all right. But it’s weird you are actually here. Good weird. Sometimes I thought you were here…or dreamt…wished…I don’t know. Maybe both. Does that sound odd?”

Levi huffs, saturnine into the dark. “No.” 

Eren looks at him with a curious, calm frown, and Levi shrugs. Maybe they should talk every now and then. 

“You were there with me every morning,” he confides.

“I was?” Eren’s eyes are so big from up close. Even bigger than they already are. They look at him, searching Levi’s gaze with slightly furrowed brows. “What did I do?”

Smiling for a moment, Levi reaches up to toy with a strand of wavy brown hair, damp with salt yet still soft. “Mostly you were just there. Holding me. Sometimes I heard your voice. Sometimes we were back at that night.”

“The good part of it or when I was an arse and left?”

“You weren’t an arse.”

Eren scowls, not looking away. “Not up for debate, Levi. I shouldn’t have left. Not like this. We both know it. So which part was it?”

Levi sighs. “Always both,” he answers.

Eren nods and goes quiet again while his hand begins to play with Levi’s side, fingers drawing absent-minded patterns on his skin. “I always blocked it out. I told myself if I didn’t let myself think about it, maybe none of it ever happened.”

“But it did,” Levi says. 

“It did.” Earnest eyes look deep into Levi’s. “Do you regret it?”

“Do you?”

“Not anymore.”

“Mm,” Levi says. “Me too.”

They fall back into silence, Eren’s smile pressing against Levi’s shoulder, fingers continuing their caress on Levi’s back while Levi runs his palm over Eren’s nape, kissing his brow. The seconds drift away, slow and gentle, like falling snow covering the bleakest scene with pristine white. 

Interesting. Not even a month ago, Levi was afraid of this conversation. 

“You were wonderful,” Eren says, voice mingling so effortless with Levi’s thoughts as if Eren could hear them. “That night, I mean.”

“You were too.”

More smiles against Levi’s skin, so in contrast with the winter night surrounding them as Eren speaks on. “I remember everything. Sometimes I wondered whether it only was a really good but scary dream. And then I woke up, and I knew…I thought I ruined so much. Sorry for taking so long to figure it all out.”

“You are worth the wait,” Levi says, fingers trailing on across Eren’s shoulder before carding back into his hair. 

“You were too,” Eren says. “You are. I’m still sorry I hurt you.”

“Sorry I hurt you too.”

Eren’s cheeks swell against Levi’s chest. “I’m also sorry for taking another week to figure out you were waiting for me to do something,” he says, voice lighter now.

Levi snorts. “Not sorry for teasing you.”

Eren laughs, and though the bed creaks again, this time it’s like a third laughter sounding in the chamber. “Ah, I deserved it,” Eren says, still chuckling. “The butter knife was evil though. I ran around with a boner that entire week.”

Levi wheezes into Eren’s hair. “You needed motivation.”

“Fair enough. I was so happy I found out it was you; that it’s always been you,” Eren says, and Levi’s guts seem to slither and rearrange themselves. “It’s not weird to fall for your best friend. Is it?”

“No,” Levi replies with a gulp, searching for Eren’s hand to squeeze it. “It’s not.”

It is weird to be called that, however. He always thought Armin held that title including the entailing honour. 

“I still thought I had to keep it from you, you know.”

Levi snorts again, thinking of Eren looking at him as though he saw a ghost before ending chess night in a hurry and fleeing from the flat with earlobes as bright as the summer sun. “I know.”

Eren sighs. “What gave me away?”

“Apart from your constant blushing and staring whenever I came close?” 

Eren tickles Levi’s side in revenge, and as he cringes against kind fingers digging into his ribs, Levi must admit he probably had that one coming. 

“You glowed when you returned from that trip,” he replies when he has enough air back in his lungs.

“Glowed? How?”

Levi recalls that evening. The restless wait for Eren to come to the Sparrow. His eager footsteps. His radiant smile even before he opened the door. His shine when his eyes met Levi’s. “Mikasa calls it unlocked,” he explains.

“Oh…that obvious?” 

Even in the surrounding blackness, Eren’s blush is visible. It’s tinting his cheekbones, his collarbones, his shoulders, and creates more heat between them than Eren already does without. The bashful reaction almost makes Levi smile. Leave it to Eren to convince himself everyone was fooled while his emotions emanated from him so strong he could have waved a flag in front of him. 

“It’s okay,” Levi says, fingers tracing Eren’s flushed earshell before running over his angular jawline. It’s probably even good Eren can’t hide what he feels, otherwise, they would have danced around each other for even longer than they already did. “I’m aloof enough for the both of us. You don’t need to be too. Don’t.”

Eren blinks up at Levi, and though unease wrinkles his brow, he finally nods. “Okay.” 

“Still took me an entire day to figure out what you wanted to keep a secret,” Levi admits to lift any remains of Eren’s self-consciousness, smiling at himself now. 

It works.

“Is that why it was so clean when I came back?” Eren asks, grinning. “I thought a customer pissed you off or something.”

Levi snorts. “Only Hanji all night long.”

Green eyes twinkle at Levi, not fooled one bit. “I liked bringing home fish. I should do that again.”

“Mm. I’d like that.” 

Bringing home.

Levi always thought of the flat above the Sparrow as Eren’s home, from the moment he moved in himself, disregarding Eren’s absence or Eren living at HQ once he returned. That Eren so effortlessly speaks of it as such now sends a thrill through him. And a hot spear. 

“Should I punch Hanji for giving you my office?” he offers with a calm voice. 

“What?” Eren pulls away to stare at him. “No!”

“She made you hurt,” Levi replies, searching Eren’s frown for any lingering ache. 

Hanji is family, but that won’t stop Levi from protecting Eren from her if he has to. Nor from avenging him. Hanji would understand. She’d maybe even punch herself in the face if he explained. 

Eren shakes his head. “I did it to myself. Besides, she didn’t know,” he says, tracing Levi’s tightening jaw with his knuckles. “Well…not everything at least. Did she?”

Finding nothing but forgiving care and curiosity in Eren’s gaze, Levi nods and casts any thoughts of hitting Hanji aside. “No,” he replies. “She pieced together a lot. But I never told her what happened.”

Eren hums. “I don’t understand why though. You tell each other everything. And the rest you simply know.”

Levi sighs, trying to explain the odd unity that is his bond with Hanji. “She doesn’t tell me about Moblit, and I don’t ask.”

“I’m not Moblit. And she’s not you.”

“No. She asked a lot about you, but I didn’t want her to get more leverage than she already has. I thought she’d push you away and maybe ask too many questions you were uncomfortable with. I wanted to shield you from that madness.”

“You couldn’t risk me running away again,” Eren says. 

It’s not a question, but Levi answers anyway. “I couldn’t. No.”

Eren hums, the look in his eyes telling Levi he understands, not only Levi’s motives but also what that meant in return, to have Hanji’s full curiosity unleashed on him. Levi would do it again, any time, and Eren seems to understand that too. 

Arms encase Levi as Eren snuggles against his chest. “She did ask lots of questions though.”

Levi huffs. He can imagine. “Like what?”

“If my arsehole steams when I have sex. Or when I take a shit.”

Despite his initial agitation when that topic first came up and the lingering fright on that matter, Levi wheezes. “I gave her that second one, I’m afraid.”

“I had a feeling. She gave you the first?” 

“She did,” Levi says, finding so much instant understanding in Eren’s eyes it’s almost too easy to release the question and conclude this topic once and for all. “Did it? That first night?”

Eren shrugs as he runs a fingertip over Levi’s creased brow. “Don’t know. Doubt it.” His lingering serenity eases the last of Levi’s concerns. “Didn’t much care either way. Did it ever since?”

“Maybe once,” Levi recalls.

“Hm. Talking night?”

“Yes.” 

A grin softens Eren’s features, accompanied by a frisky gleam in his eyes. “I’m not surprised. Was worth it, though. You made me pretty woozy back then. Almost as good as yesterday.” 

Levi smiles, and when Eren kisses his chin before nuzzling back against his chest, he buries his nose in Eren’s hair.

Eren’s stomach grumbles, reminding Levi of dinner still waiting at home to be heated. A mutton and cabbage stew, courtesy of Simone, brought over by the twins this noon. They should leave this bed soon if they want to eat before it’s too late for a hearty meal like this. A shower would be advisable too before they redress into their clothes, but Levi won’t be the one to rise and leave the bed first. Not this time.

“I’m glad Hanji was here with you when I wasn’t,” Eren says. “How was it? I mean, I wouldn’t like to repeat it either, but what was it like? How did you find the house anyway?”

Levi smiles. “I walked through the streets after you left. And it was just there. Old foliage on the doorstep. Lots of shards and dust inside. It looked…” sad, Levi thinks. “Hollow,” he says instead.

“It doesn’t look like that now.”

“No.” Levi’s fingers rest in Eren’s nape, exploring his vertebrae beneath smooth skin. “It doesn’t.”

“How long did it take you to renovate it?”

“Five months.”

“Only?”

“Mm. I opened in August.” 

And I missed you. Always missed you.

“I would have liked to help you,” Eren says, remorse tinting his voice, though he continues his caresses on Levi’s arm with unrestrained gentleness. “Definitely would have been better than boring map work.”

“You really don’t like that, do you?” Levi asks, picturing Eren rolling his eyes at Armin’s demanded accuracy and feeling fondness snaking around his heart at the image. 

“It’s really fucking dull. I did like the storms though. They always made me feel alive. Like I could just jump, and then they’d carry me here.”

“You can help now,” Levi says in lack of a better response that doesn’t sound as sappy as  _ I wished I could fly to you too.  _ He runs his palm over Eren’s tousled head. “You are helping.”

Eren scoffs. “When I don’t have a meltdown on my way home.”

Levi frowns, fingers deep in Eren’s hair as he holds the repentant gaze, and tightening his grip so Eren can’t avert his eyes. “You have too many fucked up memories, Eren. You can’t shoulder them all alone. You shouldn’t. Talk to the others when something pisses you off. They’ll understand. Or let it out on me if you can’t snarl at them for whatever reason like today.”

Eren smirks, knowledge glinting in his eyes. “You like me angry.” 

Of course he noticed yesterday. 

“It’s a part of you.” Levi shrugs. As with all of Eren’s stronger emotions, he’s always hedged a certain deviant attraction to Eren’s rage. He responds to it like a moth to a flame.

“I like your glare,” Eren confides, probably to offer something in return. “I also like these,” he adds, feathering his fingertips over Levi’s scar on his upper arm. “And those.” He traces the bruises beneath Levi’s eyes.

Levi takes in the concentrated, open gaze with a creasing brow, feeling exposed when Eren traces these lines as well. 

“You have an odd taste.”

“We already went through that,” Eren says with a mischievous quirk of his lips before his expression becomes earnest. “And I don’t think you mind.”

Their eyes lock, and as the seconds pass, tenderness spreads through Levi’s veins in a warm tingling sensation. It sets him awash, seems to coalesce in his heart and throat, and makes him swallow. 

“I don’t,” he rasps, not averting his gaze as his prickling fingertips revive their contact with Eren’s face, thumb prodding his bottom lip. 

Eren’s eyes soften further, and despite their closeness, he scuttles even nearer, as if he wanted to slip beneath Levi’s skin. He rests his brow against Levi’s and kisses Levi’s wrist when Levi’s knuckles map his cheekbone. His expressive green eyes display such an unswerving devotion Levi once more wonders what he did right in his life to deserve this much trust from such a stunning person. 

Eren smiles, rubs their noses together, and engages Levi in a languid kiss so gentle it carves all the way down to Levi’s toes and eases a soft groan from his heart. Eren’s fingers curl on his hip while his other hand searches for Levi’s on the mattress, palms sliding together as Eren deepens the kiss with an exploring tongue, slightly scratchy lips, and whispered sighs Levi will guard with his life. 

Eren pulls back and lifts their linked fingers to his kiss-grazed lips. “Take me home?”

Levi brushes more hair out of Eren’s eyes. “Yes.” 

 

*

 

Eren looks more like himself again after a brief shower and drinking his—by now cold—medicine. Yet Levi doesn’t want to risk another episode tomorrow, so when they leave Eren’s quarters, he waves a nearby evening guard close to pass on to Hanji Eren will take the entire next day off. 

Eren’s eyes remain tired until Friday morning, and watching his sluggish movements as Eren pokes in his porridge, Levi frowns across his steaming Assam, and sends him right back to bed. Day off or not, he won’t allow Eren to help with Hanji this evening unless some of the exhausted lines around his mouth are gone, and though Eren rolls his eyes with a sigh, he obeys. 

Hence Levi steps into the Sparrow alone on Friday morning, preparing the café in already unfamiliar-feeling solitude before opening the door to Red. 

He lopes across the threshold, carrying a bundle. “Good morning, Captain.” 

“Morning.” Levi steps into the staff department, fetching his apron from the hook whilst taking in Red’s jaunty stride. 

“I came to bring some clothes for our Commander for tonight,” he says with a wide grin. “And to fetch her morning coffee.”

“Coming right up,” Levi says with a nod, binding the ribbons at his back as he moves behind the counter where Red is lowering himself onto one of the barstools. For all his saunter and the exuberant gleam in his smile, there’s a delicate care to the end of the motion that has Levi raise a brow in a smirk. “Drink for you first?” he asks. 

“You know it.” Red chuckles before he assumes a more serious note. His hands come to a rest on the brass counter. “How’s Eren today?” 

As he pours Red a cup, Levi lifts his gaze towards the ceiling. For now, it’s quiet upstairs, but it’s only been fifteen minutes, and knowing Eren, he won’t rest for long before getting up and moving about. With his boundless energy, he’s incapable of sitting still for five minutes, even if he wanted to. 

“He’s better. Sleeping it off,” Levi says. 

Red nods. “Good. Rumour has it he showed you his office yesterday to have some fun.” Though the upbeat glint in his brown eyes remains, his expression is worried as his fingers take his cup of coffee by the handle. “Our people don’t say much against it. Better that than spreading around he was shaky. Especially with all the snakes around these days. Fools are causing enough ruckus with his followers without adding more fuel to the fire. How bad was it?”

“Bad enough,” Levi replies, refilling his own cup with herbal infusion. He still feels Eren crying against him, clinging on so tight it was as though he feared Levi would dissolve and vanish should he let go. “Thought it was better to let him repose a bit before going home.” 

“Figured as much.” Red wrinkles his nose in a sympathetic grimace before he takes a gulp of coffee. “Glad you were there then. And you know Tom would bite my head off if I asked for details. Just wanted to check if you need any help.”

Levi signals a no. “Not this time. Thank you.” 

At least the weeping seems to have helped. During dinner, Eren smiled again, and didn’t complain when Levi declared a chess-free night in favour of getting some much-needed rest. By waking today, Eren’s spirit had returned to his otherwise weary eyes, and an almost healthy colour to his face. His hair was a mess, and when he pulled Levi into his arms, Levi reciprocated with some lazy morning kisses. It escalated to Levi finding himself buried deep in tight, elating heat and fucking Eren so slow and thorough, Eren lost himself with a transported gaze and a hazy  _ yes! _ breathed into the sheets.

Nodding, Red brightens as he peers at the dawn-grey street, cup lifting to his mouth again. “You might need moral support for tonight, by the way. The Commander’s going to bring up Titan science to the blue bloods today. She says it should be funded.” His eyes sparkle. “Reckon she’ll be in her own kind of paradise by noon.”

Levi snorts. Hanji will be thrilled then. She’s been nagging Levi with this ever since he first met her, even more so when they learnt Eren’s time was running out six years ago. It will be a good energy boost for her after the past days, and perfect timing for Levi and Eren to let her in into Briar’s plans too. 

“Proper send off into the weekend in her eyes,” Levi says with a lingering smile. He refills Red’s coffee. “Thanks for the heads up. I heard you spread Briar’s medicine. Any questions or problems so far?”

“No.” Red shakes his head. “Mikasa might come over though. She’s curious about that healer.”

Opening the coffee can with a rattle of the tin cap, Levi nods. Of course, she is. Jean most certainly wants to know details too, though the Underground Squads started to speak of them as a unison years ago. “Wanted to come over anyway.”

“Might take another few days. She has her hands full with her new recruits. Amongst other things.” A familiar glint sparks in Red’s brown eyes, and Levi nods. With Claudio’s men being after Eren, it was only a matter of time before some minor riots started. And where there’s riot in combination with Eren being unwell…

“Daegel and Niv?” Levi asks. “How much grief are they causing Tom?” The coffee powder foams in the carafe as he pours hot water over it, sending its pungent scent up his nose. “Heard Mikasa may be giving nods to them both.”

“Enough.” Red shrugs. “The MPs threatening Eren is like adding oil to a bonfire. Daegel knocked a bunch of them through barn stalls yesterday evening. Scared the horses silly.”

“Fuck. Salka and Meraki okay?” 

“Yeah, we checked on them both. Everything’s all right. Haven’t seen Eric this agitated in years though. Whinnied like mad. Had to take him out for a bit to calm him down.” A faint line appears on his forehead, darkening his eyes for a split second before the shadow lifts with a shrug. “At least Tom’s finally able to get the stalls fixed, and three MPs are out of action for a bit.”

“Idiots,” Levi scoffs. “How’s our Highborn this morning?”

A fiery eyebrow meets Red’s just as fiery hairline. “Which one?” 

“I meant the pillock.” Levi huffs as he fetches a thermos for Hanji. “But either, actually.”

Red snickers into his cup before setting it down. “The Queen’s pretty rattled since you told her to visit. Tom heard she plans to pop by the bakery to recruit Evelyn for a nationwide news article. Apparently, there needs to be ‘damage control,’” he adds, both hands lifting into air quotes.

Levi clicks his tongue. So that’s why she was so friendly to Frey on Tuesday. Admittedly, it’s a cunning plan. Hopefully, it calms the gossip down too. “And the muppet?” he asks.

“Still limping and cursing with every breath.”

Levi smirks at the cobbled street into the direction of HQ. “Good.”

“His men are sour,” Red says. 

Humming, Levi turns his head, spotting Frey approach the café, breath clouding and face pink from the cold December morning. 

Red shrugs. “Apparently they wanted to have an adventure away from home this weekend, and now they’re stuck with babysitting their cockalorum. Tom says it’s almost a waste of the spies. Doesn’t fool me though,” he continues under the tinkle of the door bell and Frey’s eager morning greeting. “Last night was the best sex I ever had.”

Levi snorts a “‘morning Frey,” and doesn’t bat an eye as Red talks on. Meanwhile, Frey crimsons to a shade even more colourful than his and Red’s hair combined. 

“I never would have thought one standing upside down would be so good for giving a blow job whilst getting the rimming of your life.”

“Eh–” Frey stammers, brow starting to sweat. “Your delivery, Captain?” His voice hitches.

Exchanging yesterday’s trays with today’s, Levi smirks at Red. “Muscles are nice.”

“So they are. Stamina too. It’s more fun when you already shagged twice. I always enjoyed a good tease…”

Keeping his attention on Red, Levi smiles. The appreciation of a good tease aside, it is nice to slip inside Eren when they already fucked; when Eren has blown off any urgent heat. When it’s all unwound desire, snuggly limbs, fulfilled contentment, and the realisation they’re not doing it for the wild rush of the orgasm. It’s how Levi loves to pay homage to Eren the most. Just for the sake of being close. To feel, dragging it out in a lavish languor, because it feels so  _ good _ , and because Eren’s luxurious smile when he pulls Levi in deep-dirty-desperate with a breathless, hitching sigh is like sunshine on Levi’s skin.

Red’s laugh, accompanied by an obscene gesture showing what he did to Tom last night brings Levi back into the present. 

“You can never go wrong with this angle,” Red says. “Anatomy’s on your side, and when you’ve got your junk under control, you can fuck until they can’t stand it anymore. Makes them beg for it too.” He grins. “I love it when they whimper my name like a prayer but can’t remember their own.”

“Not bad,” Levi says. 

Meanwhile, Frey stares at Red’s moving hands, mouth open and face crimson. 

Red seems to notice his riveted audience, and winks. “You should listen and learn. There’s a reason why they all come to me. This works nice for the ladies too. I got one squirting like this just last week. Makes them all ruttish and wet.”

“I–” Frey blinks, glowing head shooting up as he gasps, “What!”

“You aren’t still green, are you?” Red asks, scrutinising Frey with an incredulous, almost pitying, frown. “With a smashing arse like this—not even a lovely cock lick? You’re missing out.”

The empty trays rattle in Frey’s knuckle-white grip. “Eh…I haven’t—um…” voice breaking, he glances at Levi, his innocent blue gaze screaming for help.

Refraining from rolling his eyes both at Red’s come on as well as Frey’s reaction to it, Levi nods at the exit to relieve the latter with a mild “thank you, Frey.” 

He can think of better ways to start his workday than with having a fainting baker in his café. Or with Evelyn storming in to ask why Levi lets his customers disturb her son like this. She doesn’t strike him as that type of concerned, but he’d better not risk it. “See you tomorrow.”

Frey relaxes on the spot, and he flees back out onto the cobblestones with the Sparrow’s bell chiming in the cold draught. He’s already reached the other side of the street before the door falls shut behind him, leaving the café in silence. 

“Topsiders,” Red sighs with a shake of his head. “Always so uptight and fragile. I didn’t even recount the scandalous details this time. His loss, really. Do you think he’d change his mind?” 

Levi snorts and refills Red’s cup. “Go on.”

Red smirks and bends his index finger as he continues. 

He’s still talking when the first customers stream in, and after shooting him some nervous smiles whilst Levi fetches their orders, they scurry away to the other end of the café, filling it up like clouds accumulating at the horizon. 

When Red slides off the barstool, declaring he’d better go, Levi sends him on his way with a grateful nod and the invitation to tell more on Monday morning. He kept the vultures at bay for over half an hour. It must be a new record.

 

*

 

The turret clock’s last sonorous gong for noon sounds across the town when Historia’s equipage clatters up to the Sparrow’s door. She floats out of the carriage, dressed in even more pompous fabric than on Tuesday, and her smile is so sugary, one could stick to it if one only leant in close enough. 

Levi gives neither much attention, reaching for a tea towel instead to polish the counter whilst dragging in a bracing breath, and putting on his bored face. The door bell rings, and her shoes click over the threshold with tiny steps.

“Your Highness,” Levi greets her. 

“Hello Levi,” she chirps. 

When Levi doesn’t show any inclination to take her coat, she folds her hands and widens her winsome smile. “How good to talk in private. I see you were right with your prediction.” She reaches the counter in the otherwise empty café and takes one of the bar stools to sit. “How’s Eren? Better I hope.”

“He’ll be fine.” 

After rummaging around in the flat for a bit, Eren came downstairs half an hour ago, a beam on his face as he handed Levi some heated remains from last night’s dinner. They both ate at the counter, and after Levi let him steal a pair of kisses in the staff department, Eren snuck back upstairs. Probably to clean, going by the sounds from above.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Levi offers. 

Historia nods. “I don’t have much time. But more of that lovely cherry pie would be splendid. And a tea to that?”

“Mm.” Fetching her the last, saved piece of Norman’s pie before brewing a Lapsang, Levi comes right to the point.

“You have something to say to me,” he says.

“Yes.” She refolds her silk-glove-clad fingers with a sigh. “Eren seems to be under the impression he can do whatever he wants. He won’t accept his marriage with you isn’t an option more than an obligation to our people. He says he prefers it the way it is and won’t see he doesn’t have any say in this matter.”

“Is that so,” Levi says. 

“I understand we’re on the same page, Levi? We wouldn’t want our efforts to be for nothing.”

Hardening his expression, he affects a disinterested frown. “And why do you think I would help?”

“You’re a war hero. That comes with obligations.”

“Like leading my troops to victory?”

“Like giving hope to the people.”

So she needs the marriage, Levi muses. After her coronation, there was nothing in the world the people wouldn’t have given her. Historia fought for her right to sit on the throne. She battled against her own family. Freed the orphans. “Cattle Farming Goddess,” they called her. But that was six years ago, and the title long lost its taste and became stale. The victory over the Titans gave her popularity another boost, yet the military received the biggest part of the credit, and even that was two years ago. She needs a positive event. Celebrations. Hope, as she said herself. 

“Eren is the hope-giver,” Levi says. “Plus, I’m not a servant to the people anymore. I’m only a tea shop owner these days.”

“We both know you’re more than that. You could persuade him. He listens to you. He loves you.”

Levi’s hand twitches against his thigh, wanting to pull his knives, though he keeps his fingers at his side and his voice calm. “So you want me to manipulate him.”

Historia smiles. “I want you to talk to him.”

“What makes you think I’d put him through this?”

“I understand you’re worried about the stress a big event like this could impose on him. But he won’t have to do a thing, Levi. All he’ll have to do is say yes and smile.”

“Not to mention perform a circus show for some sensation-seeking toffs,” Levi adds to that list. “And yes, his health is an issue, but not the only one. He already told you our opinion on this matter. As did I.”

“People are looking forward to seeing him. And you too.”

Levi hums. He will paint the entire capital with blood before he sees that nationwide hoopla happen. “If people want to see him, or me, they can do it here. They know where we live, and unlike HQ and your grounds, everyone is welcome in here, disregarding their stand, political influence, or monetary value. People know who we are. They’ve proved that to both of us all week. They don’t need to see either of us in a fucking parade where all they can do is swoon from a distance. Just because some rich fools in Sina want a show.”

Historia’s eyes narrow. “There will be a wedding, Levi. And it will be the grand one you deserve.”

“I heard people say we deserve to be left the fuck alone. But if you insist, I will be forced to end our relationship for Eren’s sake. Such a shame. No relationship, no happy wedding.”

She giggles into her hand as though he was a child and told her the sky is green. “Levi. People won’t care about a happy relationship as long as you’re being wed. Eren might not understand since he never much cared for it, but you know how politics work.”

Thorny heat ripples up his arm, and Levi reins in a snarl. They need her signature, and they won’t get it by him ripping her head off. Nonetheless, he thought she was cleverer than that. He also thought she’d be smart enough to not insult Eren in his presence. “Eren is a shining hero, as you said,” he says, keeping his solid posture behind the counter and his breath even. “Imagine him being forced into a wedding he doesn’t want. With a groom that broke his heart and never smiles.” He hardens his face to make a point.

“You wouldn’t throw away your relationship after waiting for years,” she waves him off. “Besides, you have been smiling since he became yours.”

Levi looks the Queen violating his café’s peace directly in the eye. “He’s his own, Historia. Unlike others, I’d never cage him, or force him into anything he wouldn’t want. And do you see me smiling now?”

Her irate blush at his informal address distorts her usually so gentle, heart-shaped features. It has a striking resemblance to the recalcitrant grimace she had before Levi throttled her a bit in that hideout, demanding her to get her head out of her own arse. 

“Are you disobeying my orders?” she asks.

Levi tilts his head as if he had to think it over. “Let me see…oh. Seems you’re right.” Letting her seethe on her stool, he pours her tea. 

When she speaks again, her voice is clipped. “Is that all you wanted to tell me? Otherwise, I wouldn’t like to drink that.”

“It’s rude on various levels to assume I’d be so yellow as to poison you when you’re a guest under my roof. It’s also an affront to refuse high-quality beverages like this. And no. I wanted to offer you a trade.”

Resting his hands at both sides on the countertop, he waits for her to take a sip of her Lapsang before he explains. “I will consider marrying Eren if you allow another researcher to assist Hanji playing around with Titan science.”

“Who?” she asks, setting her cup down.

“A skilled healer. She gets clearance on the Titan science, you get your official handfasting and a bigger chance for a long-lasting marriage. No one wants a dead groom after only a year. People don’t like funerals much.” He pauses to give his words more impact. “Especially not for war heroes.”

Historia waves a dismissive hand. “The serum works.”

“Would you bet your future on that?” Levi lifts both eyebrows with a shrug. “As far as I understand, you gave Hanji more freedom for her research just this very morning.”

Heat shoots back into her face as her neatly plucked brows draw together. “Who told you this? This is confidential information!”

Thank you, Red, Levi thinks as he grants Historia a patronising look. “Please. Hanji would try to get something out of this deal for herself. She’s been whinging about wanting more funds for her little freakshow for years. No way she’d wait until next week to bring it up. Not with her always nagging everyone how she wants to cure Eren and Armin, not sit and wait for the best.”

They stare at each other. 

“You love Eren,” Historia states in a sugar-sweet voice. “You wouldn’t gamble with his life.”

Levi’s hands want to twitch, and he orders them to remain still on the cool brass of the countertop, silently counting to five and down again, matching his breath. Eren’s life is on the line, whether he gambles with it or not. “I know what this week alone did to him,” he says. “He did enough for this country to not be pushed around any further.”

“No one’s pushing him, Levi.”

Keeping his composure, Levi smiles his toothy smile he inherited from Kenny. The one that tends to draw the blood from people’s faces. “Of course not. They wouldn’t challenge me. Which is a shame, really. My knives haven’t seen a good fight since the war ended. I could use it, actually. It’s been a tough couple of days. My hands have been skittish since Sunday.” 

The words, accompanied by his grimace, don’t fail him, and satisfaction stretches in his guts when Historia seethes.

“You wouldn’t hurt a Queen.”

“Oh?” Levi lifts an eyebrow in slow motion whilst taking every bit of remaining emotion out of his voice and posture. She may be able to wave her new title in front of people’s faces and make them into obedient, feet-licking poodles, but with Levi, she’s at the wrong address. In his Underground days, he killed people like her before breakfast. 

“That’s interesting. Because I only see a whiny farm brat who desperately screams for affectionate attention. The only difference is she stuffs herself into fancy clothes these days. She even turns on her most loyal comrades, one who worked his arse off for her comfortable safety, and carries the burden of eight Titans fucking with his body and mind without complaining. But you wouldn’t know about that load, would you? My uncle was right when he said you lacked backbone in that cave.” 

Her mouth pinches into a thin line, and she straightens up in her seat as she presses out, “Which you should thank me for. Eren is still alive because of that.”

Levi shoots her another false smile and motions at her half-emptied plate. “Which is why I let you sit here and eat my best cake instead of holding a blade to your throat.”

“You  _ let _ me…” Her small hand on the counter balls while her other arm tenses at her side. “Who do you think you are?”

Levi upholds the gaze, unfazed. “I am responsible for you shitting into a golden pot every morning. Or do you entertain another schedule these days? Much can change within six years, especially with your adjusted diet.” He lets his eyes linger on her chest for a second before he delivers the final blow. “It shows, by the way. Or do you use padding?”

Her porcelain face assumes a whole new shade of scarlet. “I helped you this week, didn’t I? I helped Eren. Don’t you think some gratitude is in order?” 

Levi is unimpressed. From the moment Historia was crowned, Claudio wanted the old regime with its corrupt system back even more than he wants Eren killed and Levi out of the way. 

“You and I both know you helped yourself just as much as us this week,” he scoffs. “But if you call it ‘help’ to float in and save Eren from a despotic stuck in the past aristocrat who thinks he can fuck with us and get away with it, then yes. You helped. How gracious of you. Interesting how instantly you arrived in town, by the way,” Levi adds. “Why was that again?”

Her blue gaze is cold as she forces herself to smile and her face is so tense Levi is almost impressed she can still speak. “I came to congratulate you and Eren on your union.”

“With prepared Royal Decrees, including Zackley’s signature, to conveniently protect Eren and me from Claudio up your sleeve and two weeks to spare to help our Commander in need? Or more to keep Claudio and his pals from undermining you and Zackley in a bid to return this country to the old system?” Levi lifts both eyebrows. “I heard your speech about the importance of public service was impressive. I didn’t know you cared this much.” 

She doesn’t reply, so Levi speaks on. “As much as I enjoy exchanging pleasantries with you, let’s cut to the chase. Supporting this ‘union’ between Eren and me won’t ensure you eternal love and gratitude. But you helping with a final solution against the Titan sources might. You must be aware of how popular Eren has become amongst the civilians and military ranks. What if the serum isn’t working as well as we all think it is? What if Eren dies in sixteen months? Imagine people knowing you helped save him from a tragic death. You’d be a hero again yourself.” 

“Are you sure you want to disobey?” she tries anew. Her cheeks are burning, her fists are still clenched, her eyes are glossy, and she looks as though she is close to vibrating on her seat. 

Good, she’s grasping for straws.

Levi stares at her and pushes her into the corner for good. “In terms you might understand better: I already lifted you up by your flimsy collar once, and I wouldn’t give a fuck about tearing some swaggering rag this time. You’ve got the choice to use your courage as you once did when we fought against your shit excuse of a father, or you can run and hide like a scared little girl. Which version of you do you think the public will support and love in the long run?” 

Her nostrils flare. “I would not advise you to pick this fight. You’ve got nothing to support you.”

Schooling his features into a placating smile, he mellows his voice. “Who says I’m picking a fight with you? I’m appealing to your guts we all know you have when you care to show them. People respect you for it, as far as I recall. If Eren was cured, it would shut that red-faced swine up too. I thought we’re on the same side.” 

Allowing his words to sink in, he pauses and indulges in a noisy sip of innocent tea. He shrugs when Historia purses her mouth, takes his time to set down his cup, and finishes tying the noose. “What a pity. But if you want to go into offence, all right. Let’s compare. I had over two hundred offers to help Eren this week, and this concerns family proposals in this town alone. Former colleagues excluded.” He creases his forehead in feigned curiosity and gives her a gentle push. “Who do you have on your side?”

“I have the military,” she says. 

“Mm.”

Then it seems to dawn on her who the military is these days—Hanji’s branch, the Military Police who’d rather back Claudio than her apart from the local brigade on Hanji’s side, and the Garrison whose loyalty is pretty much fifty-fifty—and she lifts her chin as she diverts. “I saved the orphans from the Underground. And the thugs. They look happy these days. They wouldn’t betray me. They wouldn’t.”

Reigning in his smirk, Levi lifts his tea cup for another sip. “Do you want to test where their allegiances lie?” he asks, calm and unperturbed. “In that untrained state of yours? Interesting. Since last I heard, an orphan compromised her bright future just for revenge on one little injustice against Eren. And Tom’s men aren’t thugs anymore. They’re free soldiers and official members of society who saved themselves by their own choices, as we all have to in the end. You never freed them for anyone else but for your own popularity and safety. Funny how we can deceive ourselves with what we want and who we are. But it’s our actions that betray us. 

“So.” Levi gazes at the fuming monarch in his café and wipes some non-existent dust off his brass counter. “What will you choose? Support us or challenge us? I’m fine either way.”


	18. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll have a busy day tomorrow, and since the chapter is already proofread, I thought I might as well post a bit early. ;)

“You can’t allow this!” Claudio shrieks, spittle flying from his mouth, cheeks billowing. He flinches after jerking his arms. “Not this too!”

Hanji looks at him with a widening smile, leaving the final blow to Historia. 

“We can,” she says. “And we are.”

A new gush of red shoots up Claudio’s face, leaving him gasping and stuttering. 

As bad as the week started, witnessing Claudio’s increasing hysteria is more fun than Hanji could ever have hoped for. Even more so since these brilliant kids and their supporters injured his backbone.

It’s the sixth day with the Colonel in her office. The fourth with the Queen at her side to counter every little demand Claudio has up his sleeve. The unrelenting volume of voices and emotions pummelling her during these negotiations might hurt Hanji’s head, but at least it all goes according to plan. They haven’t come to the really good parts yet. The best, the most genius, masterstrokes she’s saving for the next week. Except for the one they’re discussing now.

“It’s a fact the Titan sources will carry on should their host die, Colonel,” Hanji says, making a show of searching the pile of folders on her desk for the right file to rub under his nose. “As I already mentioned, they will feed on any new body they manage to occupy.”

“Which is risk enough,” Historia adds above Hanji’s rustling. “We do have vessels to carry on if needed, but what if something happens to them? In a case as extreme as Eren’s, we don’t know whether all the Titans he hosts will continue together as they are now.” She folds her hands, fingers clasping tight. “Going by what we know about the sources, this is highly unlikely. Isn’t that right, Commander?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Hanji says with a nod, still rifling through her files. “Regarding their similarity to a disease, we should expect they’d want to search for a new individual each to contaminate… Ha! Here it is.” She grips the file from the bottom of the pile where she knew it was all along, and drops it onto her desk. “We have to be prepared for them wanting to cause as much damage as possible.”

“The Titans are good weapons for our country’s defence, but they’re too high a risk,” Historia adds. “Our best chance to guarantee peace here is to eliminate the sources. Which is why we need to properly support research for a final cure.”

“But…you…” Claudio stutters, directing his fury at Hanji, wincing as he turns too abruptly. “That’s all for your benefit! Supreme Commander Zackley will know about this!”

“Oh, he does,” Historia says. “I have his permission here.” 

A royal guard approaches Claudio, offering him a scroll. He snatches it out of his grip with another wince, breaks open the seal, and lets his small eyes flit over its content. His rising fury makes Hanji lean back in her chair and enjoy the small moment of victory. 

She wonders whether Zackley, absent as he is or not, enjoys his current mornings similarly as she does. With waking up, and smiling at the prospect to hammer yet another nail into their shared efforts to silence Claudio, preventing a second coup and the return of despotic rulers. It’s almost a shame Zackley can’t witness it at first hand. Maybe Hanji should send him a drawing. Or a postcard. 

‘Dear Supreme Commander,   
Having a blast with your latest gift. Weather is nice too. Or so I think…   
H. (aka #1)’

She even could attach the sketch she scribbled of the imbecile falling out of bed with his jelly bag cap flying in the air. Or a new one with Claudio popping kittens out of his arse to see whether Zackley gets the joke. 

Meanwhile, Historia dictates notes to Erika. “Commander Hanji Zoe will be granted with special funds for this particular case, providing she’ll use it for research purposes only. This includes material, tools, further assistants, and provisions to show results and make progress on finding a permanent solution.” 

Her voice drops to a sharp tone as she readdresses Claudio. “We need to control this situation better. The current serum can only be a never-ending interim solution until we either lose the Titan sources to an enemy, or finish them off once and for all. For reasons we already discussed, Supreme Commander Zackley, Commander Zoe, and I prefer the second outcome. Don’t you too, Colonel?” She pauses and tilts her head, blond eyebrows drawing together. “I recall you tried to execute Eren and Armin once before due to a lack of understanding of their nature. Your arguments hold merit on destroying the sources, so curing them is the reliable solution.”

Resting her chin on her folded fingers with her elbows propped on her desktop, Hanji watches the discussion with growing amusement. Her feet dangle beneath her chair, needing to release prickling energy. 

“This is special treatment.” Claudio strikes out, pointing a stubby finger at Hanji, but stops when it seems to hurt his spine. “We all know this wannabe of a scientist likes to play with beakers and syringes. Especially ever since that good-for-nothing…assistant of hers started to put ideas into her head. What good can possibly come out of it by spending the citizens’ taxes on her own private amusement?”

Historia’s gaze hardens. “Without Cookie’s contribution and Commander Zoe’s effort we still would be at war today. Have you forgotten it was her serum that brought us our victory and peace, Colonel?”

“Of course not. But it’s preposterous to enable her! You can’t honestly think she’ll cure these monsters for good, your Highness.”

Hanji cackles. “I prefer to use Levi’s term, and call them miracles, Colonel,” she says, allowing her restless arms to fly in the air. “Can you imagine? They are so tall in their Titan shape! They look like we do and then…bam!” She slams both her hands down onto her desk, pushing herself up from her chair, grinning at Claudio’s startled jump and following wheeze of pain. “Phenomenal. Both of them. Eren can even talk in his Titan form now.”

The idiot’s moustache twitches under fluttering nostrils.

“Well…” Hanji shrugs, “he could if he was able to shift these days. At least he can talk in his human form too.” She slaps her forehead, letting out a roaring laugh to prove she’s a total nutcase before plopping back in her chair.

Though Erika to her left stifles a snort, Historia doesn’t pay Hanji’s great performance any attention whatsoever. Instead, she pierces Claudio with a resolute stare. “The permission is granted, Colonel.” 

She’s been testy all day, and Hanji assumes she’s still fretting over Levi’s request to come to the Sparrow. If anything, Levi is doing her a favour, though. The café is quiet around noon, and Historia wouldn’t want any witnesses for the dressing-down she’s about to walk into. 

At least she uses her waspishness to really tick off Claudio. Most likely that was part of Levi’s plan too. “And as to your question: yes, I do think if anyone is able to find a solution, it is Hanji Zoe. If you would add this to the protocol, I have highest respect for the Commander, and believe her discoveries in this field will be fruitful and groundbreaking.”

“Roger, Your Highness,” Erika mutters, her hand flying over the page, and Hanji looks away. Whereas most other penmen use the generally recognised stenography, she joined the Survey Corps with her own technique that allows her to take notes even quicker. Watching her take notes always enhances Hanji’s headache. 

“Thank you for your confidence, Your Highness,” Hanji says. “Cookie will be delighted to help me with this. He’s been excited for a new challenge since our success with the serum.”

“I believe that. He is an outstanding pioneer in medicine after all. I’m glad the Underground recruiting helped you find one another.”

A choked huff alongside a wince from Claudio makes Hanji smile. “We won’t fail you, Your Highness.”

“I have no doubt, Commander.” Historia nods, looking around in the room and giving the desktop a gentle pat. “I think we should close here for the week. It’s lunchtime, the penmen have enough to do, and regarding our progress, we can continue with the rest next week.” With that she stands and brushes her pretty skirt into place before folding her hands. “I also have to attend to my appointment with Levi before visiting some orphanages while I’m in this area. They’re expecting me this evening, and you must want to have your office back to yourself for a couple days, Commander. Unless you have any important matters to discuss right away, I shall leave you and Colonel Claudio and rejoin you by Monday morning.”

Hanji waits for Claudio to open his mouth before she speaks. “I don’t, Your Highness, and I believe our Colonel might want some recovery rest too. Thank you so much for your assistance this week. I will write Supreme Commander Zackley about how lucky we are to have your support in this matter.”

“But of course.” Historia smiles. “You do your part for our people, and I’ll gladly do mine.” She holds out her gloved hand, and Hanji takes it in a shake. “It’s good to finally set up these rules anyway, Commander. It’s necessary for our future. I don’t know why we didn’t do it earlier.” 

Stepping from behind Hanji’s desk, Historia approaches Claudio to offer her hand for another shake with a very large, funny looking smile. “Colonel.”

He reaches for it as if it cost him immense effort. “Your Highness.”

“I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding,” she says, retrieving her hand before allowing a guard to dress her into her thick queenly winter coat. “I hope you and your men can enjoy your weekend, despite your unfortunate accident. I hear the pub at the market place has music on Saturday to celebrate the new year. I would go myself if I had any time for it, but well. The Underground orphans will be happy to see me.” She lifts her hand to check on her perfectly pinned up hair. “But are you sure you won’t take the services of my personal physician? Maybe he can help.” 

“How kind, Your Highness, but I brought my own.” 

Hanji rolls her eyes to herself. What’s it with rich people and their quack doctor physicians? It’s like they’d expect them to fart eternal youth. Cookie would have had him back to normal already by aligning his back right. Then again, it’s probably good he won’t touch the bastard. He respects Eren too much to bother taking a chance compounding Claudio’s misery. Admitted, it would be fun to hear the arsehole scream again, yet Hanji doesn’t need her most capable—not to mention only—assistant in chains for premeditated physical injury on a superior arsehole.

“However you please, Colonel,” Historia says. “I’ll leave some of my men behind in case you or the Commander need anything. So if you change your mind, don’t hesitate to give them a call.” 

He appears to attempt a rigid bow which ends in a rather stiff nod. “Thank you.”

“Good then.” Historia looks around the loose circle. “A bright new year to you all. See you on Monday.” She grants Hanji a final smile that lost some of its prior oddness, and leaves the office, her royal entourage in tow. 

The door closes behind her, and Hanji takes back her own place behind her desk. “Well, then. Do you want anything else from me, Colonel?”

He steps closer, face a darkening red, Historia’s roll from Zackley crumpling in his fist. “I see what you’re playing. You think you’re so smart, don’t you? But ohh, I won’t give up so easily. I will–”

A knock comes on her door, purposeful and strong, making Claudio flinch, pale under another gasp, and stop in the middle of his sentence. Basking in the reaction, Hanji bites back a laugh. 

Ever since Levi’s first grand entry on Tuesday, Claudio has been on edge, expecting Levi is lurking behind every corner, responsible for every knock on Hanji’s door. Needless to say, some soldiers make use of it, first and foremost Tom’s men, Levi’s old Squad, and Rita, including friends. Hanji has to properly return the favour for this one day. Levi couldn’t have done anything more effective to scare the recreant out of his narrow mind. 

Well, perhaps except kissing Eren as passionately as he did right under Claudio’s nose, and then again gently. After the week they all had, Eren and Levi deserve all the kisses they can get. She hopes for Eren’s sake he can steal some in the Sparrow right now. Given Levi deemed it necessary to enter HQ as he did whilst ensuring his daily return remains a lingering possibility, Eren must have given him quite the scare Monday night. 

She really has to know what happened yesterday too. Eren looked too wan when he entered her office in the evening, and him taking the entire day off today can only be a bad sign. 

Ripping herself out of her thoughts, Hanji smiles at the door. “Come in,” she calls. 

Tom’s head pokes through the opening. “It’s time for lunch, Commander.” 

Though he displays his usual non-descript mask, there’s an air of mischievous satisfaction radiating off him that makes Hanji smile. “Already?” she asks in feigned surprise. “No wonder I’m hungry.”

“Do you want your rations brought to you or will you attend lunch in the mess hall?”

She stretches her arms above her head. “We’ll attend. Thank you, Major.”

He salutes and leaves. 

Hanji counts to ten in her head before she looks up at Claudio and blinks. “Where were we? I forgot. Oh, no, that’s right. Do you want to continue this discussion this afternoon, Colonel? We should set up a schedule for the topics to review next week.” Beaming, she pretends to give him time for an answer but prattles on. “We only have to conclude on time this evening. I’ve got dinner plans, you see, and it would be a shame to miss out on them. Levi and Eren will be devastated if I can’t make it. It’s our Friday tradition. Oh! Would you want to join us, Colonel?” 

There’s no way Claudio would participate in anything that involves voluntarily sitting in the same room as Levi or Eren. Let alone eating something they not only serve but prepared with their own hands. He has flat out refused to touch any of Levi’s delivered pastries, and never accepted the provided tea or coffee either. It’s still entertaining to rub the offer under his nose and watch him squirm.

“I think Eren is cooking.” Hanji frowns, tapping her chin. “Or was it Levi…do you remember, Erika?” 

“Nope, Sir,” Erika replies without looking up from her notes. “For what it’s worth, you can be glad it isn’t me.” 

Hanji laughs, permitting it to be broad as she slaps her desk with flat palms. “She’s so funny, isn’t she? I like her. Anyway. Would you like to come, Colonel?” she asks again, delighting in his darkening tint. “Eren is learning to cook, you see. It’s so sweet, really. He made a stew last weekend. It was heavenly! I bet he’d love another opinion. And you could see my new chair. I’m sure it’s marvellous. Eren bought it.” 

Staring at her, Claudio takes two deep laboured breaths, turns, and stalks out of the office without another word. 

“Is that a no?” Hanji asks, beaming until the door falls into its frame with a bang. “See you after lunch, Colonel!” she calls after him. Then she sighs and sags back into her chair. 

Erika follows suit after dropping her pen onto a stack of papers. “And I thought this weekend would never come,” she groans. “Fuck, my hand hurts.” She shakes it out while Hanji releases her tingling energy by doing the same.

“At least we finally get what we need,” Hanji sighs when the worst inner pressure has passed, reaching for Levi’s thermos with the last drops of coffee from her morning dose. 

She is tossing it back into her throat when the door opens after a brief characteristic rap, and Tom enters with a smirk. “Knocking attacks remain effective as I see.”

Erika snorts and stretches her back with another groan until her vertebrae pop. “Such a wimp! I truly wonder how vainglorious fools like that manage to attain such a high rank. Say whatever you want, but I smell corruption in this case.”

“Fucking high-class politics.” Tom nods at Hanji. “You all right, Commander?”

“Yup,” Hanji says, knocking her mug back onto her desk. “Just have a headache from his voice. I think we all need the few days to ourselves.” She’ll have to pull through another afternoon before her own two days of freedom start, but as opposed to Monday’s pandemonium, it will be a breeze this time.

“Speak for yourself,” Erika mutters. “My Squad, including me, will write all weekend through. At least I won’t have to share a room with him during that time and can file away his bullshit demands from Sunday and Monday.”

“Thank you, Erika,” Hanji says. 

Erika waves her off. “Ah, well, Commander. It is how you said. We knew this day would come anyway. Waited long enough, didn’t we? And at least I’ll be able to do the extra work at the Sparrow. The change of scenery will do me good. And ugh…these nut pastries were yummy. I want more.”

Using the tip of one boot to scratch her other foot, Hanji turns to Tom. It’s the first time they have some quiet time for themselves this week, and she’d better seize it for a brief catching up. “Heard anything from your men yet?” 

“Nothing from outside this town, aside from a note saying Kalle arrived in Stohess,” he says, resting his back against the door, arms crossed, face neutral. “He’ll go undercover for a while to track down Lobelia Schreiber. Claudio’s men continued shaking down the locals all week. Persistent little fuckers.”

“They didn’t get anything, did they?” Erika asks. 

“No. They were booted wherever they went. They’ll probably widen their perimeter next week. Getting desperate since nobody wants to talk, even for money. Folks are pretty angry about the swellheads sniffing around. Speaking of,” Tom adds with a nod at Hanji. “Daegel and Niv are begging to watch outside of Sparrow.”

Erika snorts. “They can’t get enough, can they? Their loyalty is admirable though, damn. Does Eren know he has a pair of inferior personal bodyguards back in business?”

Tom grants Erika a self-explanatory smirk before he readdresses Hanji. “Told them I’d ask you whether you’ll allow it seeing how violent they get.” 

She cackles. “They thinned the MP ranks in town the past days, so I say they deserve a treat. Get Daegel out of the clink and put him on rotation with a couple of your best men to watch over Eren and Levi this weekend. Niv too.” 

“All right.”

“Post some men in the proximate bars and bordellos too,” she says, scratching her tingling knees. “Maybe they’ll hear something we can use.”

Tom nods. “Already done. Stationed some in the bathhouse too and the drinking hole with the dart wall, squeezebox, and fiddle player. Put a few nearby churches and set up patrols in the back alleys as well, just to be safe.”

“There’s an amateur theatre play in the neighbouring town tomorrow,” Erika interjects. Her eyes are trained on an ink stain on her left wrist which she tries to rub off. All it seems to do though is make her thumb blue as well.

“Got that covered too,” Tom says, thorough as ever. Sometimes Hanji wonders if even Levi would have been able to set up a better and more thorough net of spies than Tom has managed to pull out of his hat. Then again, Levi helped him with that. “I talked to Norman as well, though Levi already signed on Evelyn to tell him if she hears anything.”

Trudging boots and chattering approaches on the other side of the door, and Tom pauses, waiting until the noise has abated before he continues. “Chuckles and Nico talked to Magda, but she wouldn’t say what happened to Eren on Monday evening. She won’t talk.”

“Good.” Hanji nods. They’ll need any loyal person they can find. “Let’s hope Claudio’s men are as stupid as their boss and let something slip.”

Erika seems to have given up on the ink stain and wraps her hands around her coffee cup. “You talked to Mikasa last night?” 

“We did. No news aside from the expected,” Hanji replies, the last words going under in a yawn. 

Tom hums. “Her Squad’s been busy with checking in with the Garrison and local MPs, and keeping the Scouts in control. The additional patrols and guards this weekend should help with the latter, though.” He scratches his brow and refolds his arms. “We’ll send out the antsy ones first to give them something to do. Can’t afford any trouble. Too much’s on the line.”

Meaningful silence follows before a frown hardens on Erika’s face, adding to a distinct worry building around her before she says, “I hope Levi and Eren haven’t discovered our conspiracy yet.”

“No,” Hanji says, watching Tom’s fingers tapping against his upper arm as he scowls. “And I want to keep it that way for now, so no word.” 

“For how long?” Tom asks while Erika hums her agreement into her coffee. “Levi smells something’s off. I can tell, and I don’t like lying to him should he ask in the right direction.” Meaning he won’t lie given certain circumstances, even if that meant a breach of secrecy.

“Neither do I,” Hanji replies, “but we will keep silent about it until Claudio’s gone. Levi will want retaliation. We can’t have it like that. They’ll want his head afterwards. And I know he doesn’t care about reputation, but I won’t allow it. He and Eren deserve better than a life on the run.” 

It will be a challenge enough to keep Levi from chasing Claudio when he’s out of town and back in his comfortable home in Mitras. It will be impossible to keep Levi from hunting him whilst still at HQ once he finds out Claudio tried to kill Eren two years ago. It won’t make a difference to Levi Hanji was there to prevent it. If anything, it will make him furious at her too for keeping that information from him. Which she can handle. Levi’s wrath against Claudio is another thing. 

Tom’s jaw moves, and though Hanji can feel his reluctance, he nods. “I know. I won’t see that happen to them.”

“Thank you, Tom.”

“Do you still need me, Commander?” Erika asks, gathering her tools in her leather bag and closing it with clicking buckles. “I’d like to stuff my face with lunch and then start on the first batch of official documents. Maybe even see the sky for two minutes to check if the sun’s still there.”

“No, Erika, that would be all.” Hanji smiles at her. “Good work.”

“Let’s kick his arse next week,” Erika says with a wink. She slides the bag off her makeshift desk before hanging it over her shoulder and strides towards the door, turning around to face Hanji again as she continues walking. “I’m thinking about starting with a big bang on Monday. What about special protection supply? I can’t wait to see his eyes popping out of his head when you let the bomb drop about Levi getting some weaponry back. I bet his brain will explode when he hears Levi should fly again to protect his Titan shifter hubby. Can you imagine?” She holds her free hand against her head before ripping it away again. “Poof!” 

Tom smirks under Hanji’s cackle and moves away from the door to let Erika pass. “We’ll join you for lunch. You coming, Commander? You need your meal. I know you’ve got dinner plans, but I won’t let you starve yourself on my watch.”

“Yeah, all right,” Hanji says, rising from her chair and following Erika with stretching arms. “It’s cabbage stew day to stretch yesterday’s boar, isn’t it? Let’s hope it bloats our upper-class guests up real nice.”

“Maybe someone should help with that as a farewell gift,” Erika says. 

The door falls shut behind them, leaving Hanji’s office empty and peaceful for the first time in days. It might be a bit premature, but Hanji feels like celebrating. 

 

*

 

Celebrating starts when Claudio rushes into his entitled weekend on the dot at eighteen hours, muttering about “lunatics,” “sabotage,” and that he’ll “show them all.” 

Hanji fake-smiles at the apoplectic dunce slamming the door behind him, shakes out her trembling limbs, and dresses for a past-due visit at the Sparrow. She hasn’t been there since Monday, and as perfect as Levi’s coffee is poured from a thermos, she’d rather have the real thing. Including his delightfully grumpy company. She’s even looking forward to Levi’s predictability she usually rolls her eyes over. She misses Eren too. It’s been too long since she felt his smile.

The longing to be back in the midst of her small family is so big, she even forgets the red and blue markings on her mental calendar. That is, until there’s another knock at the door, announcing Tom who enters without waiting for a response, his stony look on his face.

“Fancy an escort?”

Shit.

It’s shower day.

It’s been coming for a while. She’s seen it. Levi’s looks began to assume the familiar grimness about two or three weeks ago, and on Monday he was close to calling her out. Yet she thought, hoped—foolishly as it seems—he wouldn’t actually go through with it with Claudio in town. She thought wrong. 

“Fuck,” Hanji says. 

Tom smirks. And shit, he’s still in a good mood too. “No offence, Commander, but I don’t think you’re ready for me yet.” 

For a second, Hanji thinks about making a run for it and bailing, but it won’t help her. She can’t escape Levi. When he gets it into his head to do something, he will find a way, which includes their monthly cleaning ritual. He’s proven that to her often enough. Hanji is aware of the health issues she imposes on herself and knows Levi has no other choice but to force his help on her. Still.

“Ah, you know what? I’m tired. I think I’ll stay here.” Hanji fakes a wide yawn that even turns into a real one, yet Tom remains unimpressed.

“No…” He folds his arms before his chest, standing in the entrance like a bouncer. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. I gave my word you’d be there and already had your clothes delivered.”

Hanji stomps her foot. “But I don’t want to go.” Not that this argument ever helped. 

It’s been over a year since Tom and she went through this in the evening. The monthly shower ritual got interrupted right after its reinstatement when Eren returned from exploring. At first, Hanji thought Levi would forego them since evenings were Eren’s time now. Only to walk into an otherwise empty café one merry Saturday morning and be towed upstairs. After that, she became more careful with her visits when time was ripe, yet Levi has a knack for catching her sooner or later, and Tom always helps. Sometimes even Red stepped in to assist. It doesn’t help she can’t stay away from Levi, even if she wanted to. He’s her family, as Tom is well aware of.

“Sure you do,” he counters her lie, and Hanji can tell by the demonstrative bored tone he’s about to drop a bomb which will get her attention and interest whether she wants to or not. 

“I heard Evelyn brought potato soup with ham,” he says. “Smells delicious even cold.”

“Evelyn?” Hanji blinks, surprised against her own will. This can’t be right; something is very wrong here. There’s no way Levi wouldn’t want to cook for Eren himself on a Friday night at home, unless Eren was the one cooking. “You’re fibbing,” she declares. 

Tom merely blinks. “Am I? Well, guess we’ll never find out, will we?” He stares at her for a heartbeat longer, aloof and decisively unimpressed, before a slow, self-satisfied smile builds on his face. 

Oh, bugger, he knows her too damn well. 

“Are you telling me Levi ordered dinner?” she asks, curiosity setting her mind ablaze. “Levi? The man who’d rather die than let others meddle with his rituals? The man who can’t even tie his shoes in the wrong order and cuts his toilet paper with scissors.  _ Our _ Levi?” 

Not moving from the entrance, Tom smirks. “Yes,” is all he says. “He’s had delivered meals since Tuesday.”

“Tell me,” Hanji says, hands reaching for his collar as she steps closer. 

“No.”

“Please,” she begs. There must be a story behind this, and since it concerns Levi being a kook for once in his boring existence, Hanji must know. 

Tom says nothing.

She lets go of him and tears at her hair. “Argh! Why don’t you tell me? I hate you!”

Tom hums. “I’ll get over it. Now come on, Levi is waiting. And according to Eren, your new chair is perfect. It’s not red too.” 

“What!”

He leaves the office without another word, knowing she’ll follow.

Torn between terror and the intense desire to be informed about every little detail concerning Levi and Eren’s life together, Hanji pouts. If she closes the door and locks it shut, she can use her gear to escape from the window in under a minute. But then she’ll never know.

She won’t know what happened to Eren yesterday evening. She won’t know how Levi has been all week, plus she also won’t know about the delivered dinners—plural!—and how Levi’s flat looks like with Eren having moved in. She bets it’s colourful and bright.

“Coming, Commander?” Tom’s voice cuts through her thoughts. 

Hanji casts another look at him. Then at the window to freedom at her back.

In the end, she sighs and lets herself be dragged out of HQ and towards her monthly horrortrip to the shower. At least Cookie will let her near the experiments again once the torture is over. He’s been adamant she isn’t allowed to contaminate the results for over a week now.

Experiments aside. As much as she really loathes her own curious brain sometimes, she must know about that chair. 

 

*

 

The chair is turquoise, and Hanji can’t stop beaming. 

“Oh, Eren! This is perfect!”

“You think?” he asks, rubbing his neck with a blush glowing on his cheeks. 

As opposed to yesterday evening, the pallid shades on his face are gone, as are the forlorn shadows in his eyes. His movements are more vigorous too, new love bites adorn his neck, and as he looks at Hanji with flaming contentment written all over him, she smiles. The day at home did him good. 

“I was a bit worried about the colour. It doesn’t match.”

“It is impeccable,” Hanji insists, unable to hold herself back from needling a bit. “Don’t you think so too, Levi?”

“Tch!” Levi stands in the kitchen, stirring in an unfamiliar pot that must belong to Evelyn, and even his grumpy comment can’t change the fact he’s been smiling all evening.

Eren grins. “Rita’s dad told me Levi almost chose it for the others before he picked red, so…” he shrugs.

Of course, Levi did. The colour matches Eren’s eyes, though going by Eren’s restlessness, Hanji doubts he made that connection yet. It even has the same bluish-green silvery shimmer, and if there ever was a prettier chair to sit in than her old favourite, it’s this one. Hanji can’t believe he bought her something this beautiful. 

“It’s brilliant, Eren,” she says, storming forward to hug him before plopping down into her gift. “You even placed it into the middle…” An enthralled squeak forms in her chest, and she permits it to burst out, clapping her hands. 

Eren chuckles, his relief flooding over Hanji like a wave. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!” She throws her arms in the air. “It’s the most beautiful chair ever!”

“We’re still having dinner at the table,” Levi says. 

Hanji groans and rolls her eyes, poking a finger into Levi’s general direction as she lowers her voice into a stage whisper. “How do you keep up with that all day, Eren?”

He stands at her side, peering towards the kitchen before he shrugs and replies, “I like him this way.”

The comment, sweet and honest as it is, makes Hanji’s eyes sting, and by the kind of quietness coming from the kitchen, she can tell Levi is smiling and frowning at the same time. 

How long has she waited for this…six years, nearly six and a half? 

She returns Eren’s smile, pushing the sensation of being overwhelmed aside. “Sure you do.”

The clatter of dishes sounds in the kitchen, and Eren turns with a squeeze of Hanji’s shoulder, probably to help Levi with setting the table. Letting him go, Hanji lounges in her seat and glances around in the living room. 

It looks the same as always, mostly. Maybe even cleaner if that’s possible. There’s the new turquoise-not-red armchair she’s occupying in-between the two familiar ones. A fawn fur on the old corduroy chair catches her attention, and fills her chest with warmth. She already knew Eren claimed the red chair for himself not too long ago, but the fur on the armrest is the ultimate proof. She has to press out of Levi where he got it from and how. It’s beautiful, and going by its neat arrangement on a spot where Eren can look at it during occupying the chair, he thinks so too. 

The hearth looks the same as always, the rest of the room as well, and yet there’s a whole new atmosphere to it. As if some old, shrivelling sadness has been cast out. Then Hanji spots the candles on the coffee table. 

“I see you still have Magda’s gift,” she calls. “Are they effective?” She looks over her shoulder in time to see Eren turn a fiery red as he arranges some cutlery on the dining table. “You know I translate that blush as a ‘yes,’ don’t you?”

“Those are new ones, actually,” Eren admits, hurrying back into the kitchen from where Hanji hears a wheeze, drowned out by a mumbled “oh, shut up.” It’s followed by a quiet snort, and then there’s harmonic quietness disrupted by a single sigh.

Basking in the feeling of being included, and truly happy for the first time this week, Hanji smiles. Levi wouldn’t kiss Eren in her company if he didn’t regard her as family. Not even in their home. She gives them a minute before interrupting them. “So how often do you do it? Twice a day?”

“None of your business,” Levi retorts. 

Hanji cackles, picking on a loosened button on her shirt. “Of course, it is. And may I remind you that we agreed on three questions?”

“In total, not every day,” Levi corrects her. “And move your bony arse over here, dinner is ready.”

“Nice try. We never narrowed it down like this,” Hanji shoots back as she rises. “And I don’t intend to.”

“No surprises there,” Levi says, placing the pot with soup beside a bread basket in the middle of the table and reaching for the first bowl to fill. “Sit wherever you want. You do anyway.”

Picking the chair she used to sit in during their café blueprinting sessions, she laughs. “You know I do.”

Eren lifts a steaming tea pot. “Mint and ginger infusion, Hanji?” His lips look as if someone just sucked on them, and Levi has a matching pair. 

Grinning to no one in particular, Hanji nods. “Yes, please.” She gazes at Levi who meets her leer with nothing more than a raised eyebrow, so Hanji widens her smile. _ I’m so happy for you. _

He sighs and hands her a filled bowl with soup, unable to hide the content gleam in his eyes.

“You know you’ve got to tell me about your dinner arrangement, grumpy,” she says. “I missed out on so much this week. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

“It’s only during the critical days,” Eren replies in Levi’s stead. “It’s been a relief though.”

Hanji catches Levi’s mild frown. Something must have happened the past days she doesn’t know about yet. 

They caught up with the week’s happenings over coffee and tea in the café, yet not detailed enough to cover everything before Levi moved the party upstairs. So far, they dealt with Eren’s symptoms, exchanged gossip about their least favourite Colonel, not too confidential information from inside Hanji’s office, and news on Eren’s Trainees. The latter was concluded by Levi stating if any stuck up prick was trying to get one of Eren’s Trainees to turn on him like Claudio had with Ian ever again, Levi would cut the arsehole down with his own hands. A statement that made Hanji grateful for her decision to leave Levi out of the information on Claudio’s coup two years ago. 

The impending shower hasn’t come up yet, but there’s a restlessness in the air that tells Hanji it will eventually. She’d rather keep it that way. Time to pull out the big guns. 

“So what about the engagement?” she prods.

While Eren sighs at her side and squirms in his seat with a faint blush, Levi scowls across the table. “Get in line with that question, glasses.”

“But–”

“No.”

Oh. Seems like she poked a sore spot. If she doesn’t want him to counter the attack, it’s better to redirect. So she shrugs, pitches into her soup, and changes the topic. “Who’s idea was this new dinner arrangement anyway?”

“Evelyn’s,” Levi says. “Was very persistent with the idea of offering support,” he adds.

Hanji can imagine. She’s only met Evelyn a handful of times, but she’s capable of wrapping Levi around her little finger when she sees Levi needs help. Hanji wishes more people were like Evelyn. “I heard you’re using her as a spy now,” she says.

Levi looks like he’s hiding a smirk behind his spoon. “I prefer the term ‘informant.’ But yes.”

Hanji laughs. “Well, you can pass on her soup is delicious.”

“Mm.” His eyes move to Eren smiling through a mouth full of bread, and soften around the edges before Levi controls his features. “I will.”

Lifting his tea cup, Eren shoots him a doting gaze back.

There’s a new ease between them that wasn’t there on Sunday when Hanji last saw them together at the Sparrow. It’s like their connection, which already was deep before, has strengthened even more over the past days. Hanji wonders what caused it to happen. It’s not Eren’s symptoms. It’s not Levi protecting Eren from Claudio either. Nor is it Eren being a good and easing influence for Levi. It’s like looking at the past when they did everything together, both so in love and content in each other’s company, though it never even crossed their mind it could be mutual. 

They talked, Hanji realises. About everything. Finally.

While Levi looks at her with an apprehensive frown that tells her to  _ not lose her shit, _ Eren drinks his tea as if nothing has happened, and Hanji has a hard time not crying. 

“Toast, four-eyes?” Levi offers.

Pulling herself together, she nods and clears her throat. “Thank you.” 

She is reaching for the bread basket when her eyes spot something at the far end of the kitchen that swipes every other thought out of her head. Her mouth falls open and exhilaration bursts through her veins. “Holy shit, you’re decorating!” 

Within a heartbeat, she’s up on her feet to inspect the instalment from up close. She hasn’t left the chair before her laughter erupts, unchecked, as all her attention focuses on blue, wobbly lines on a napkin. “Okay, I don’t have to ask who drew this. Whoa! This is amazing!” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Levi sighs while Eren’s fond amusement ripples through the room. 

“You know I won’t,” Hanji counters, inspecting the carefully pinned item. The napkin is clearly from the Sparrow and presents the most horrible, misshapen drawing of a bird she has ever seen—and that includes Vigga’s aimless sketches. 

Her head shakes in incredulous adoration and the urge to poke is too big to resist. “Aw, look at that! It even has a bandage.” She claps and bounces on her feet that need to let out the bursting elation somehow. “Is that supposed to be Selma?” 

“It is, actually,” Eren says. His voice is so warm it tickles Hanji’s toes. “And it was a big help.”

“I can imagine,” Hanji teases with another snort and senses Levi rolling his eyes without having to look. “From when is it?”

“The evening we found her,” Eren replies. 

“Well, well. I find out all sorts of things tonight, don’t I?” she asks, winking at Eren before eyeing the napkin again. “Levi, you should draw more often. Can I have one too?”

“Your soup gets cold,” Levi tries to divert, yet Hanji won’t fall for that trap. 

“She looks so cute, grumpy!” she says. “Did you have art classes I don’t know about? Since the resemblance to an actual bird is remarkable.” It’s not. It’s fucking shit.

“You get its meaning don’t you?” he says, sighing when Eren chuckles out loud. “What.”

Eren snorts again.

Grinning at them over her shoulder just in time to see Eren reach for Levi’s hand in wordless appeasement, Hanji digs further. “And what’s that leaf all about?” 

Eren’s ears turn red within an instant, and now it’s Levi’s turn to snort and pat Eren’s hand. 

“I sense a great story here,” Hanji says. “Please tell me it’s just a little bit embarrassing so I can make fun of you until the end of days.”

“It’s been an exciting fortnight,” is all Levi says, a multitude of emotions radiating off him and Eren both, to wash over Hanji as the words sink in. 

It almost feels like the wind changes outside, sneaking through the stone walls to send in some of its chill. It doesn’t linger, but it’s there nonetheless.

Levi is still holding on to Eren’s hand, their fingers intertwining as Eren seems to be torn between a rueful frown and a mild smile. His green eyes meet Hanji’s as he decides for the latter. 

“It still feels a bit odd sometimes,” he confesses and nods at the leaf, his thumb rubbing circles over Levi’s hand. “I like to call that one ‘The Night I Started to Come to My Senses.’”

“The leaf or the napkin?” Hanji asks, looking at the odd instalment once more. “Or both? Or you pinning them on this door?”

“Maybe a combination of all that?” Eren says, earlobes still red. “I had the napkin in my kitchen first though. Next to the sink.”

“You know I won’t stop asking for details until I know everything about it, don’t you,” Hanij says as she returns to the table. 

“What a shocker,” Levi says with a smirk in his voice. 

Eren grins as well. “Three questions?” he offers with a raised eyebrow, gentle dimples pressing into his cheeks.

Hanji cheers, yanked around between too many options. There’s so much she’s been wanting to ask. 

How does it feel to have butterflies in your stomach when you’re a Titan shifter—is it the same nauseating mass of worms winding in your guts or is it different? Who is the big spoon during the night and who lies on which side of the bed? Where did they first have sex—did they even make it to the bedroom? Where else does Eren have love bites, aside from those on his neck? And does Levi have some too? 

Best start with the most important thing though. So Hanji grins and scratches one nagging thought off her list. “Have you already checked how many orgasms Eren can have in one evening?”

Levi laughs.

 

*

 

They manage to empty the pot before Eren shoots Levi a look and takes a deep breath. 

“So,” he says, eyes flitting to Levi once more before they focus on Hanji. “I want to help with the showering.”

That was it with the period of grace, Hanji thinks, feeling the impact of Eren’s words like a hammer smashing all her joy to pieces as ice runs down her back.

“I want to help,” Eren says again, as if saying it once wasn’t enough to send Hanji’s inner alarm off and make her heart race. 

Futile as it will be with Levi in this room, pinning her in her chair, she decides to wave it off. “Ah, that’s nice Eren, but there’s nothing much to help with.”

“Yeah, right,” Levi scoffs, mouth such a thin line Hanji can feel his edginess like needles on her skin. His gaze roams over her hair, coming to a halt at a spot on her neck that Hanji refuses to cover under his scrutiny.

“What’s that stain under your jaw then, huh?” he says, jerking his chin at her with a scowl. “Ink? Soil? Horseshit perhaps?”

She crosses her arms without a further reply. If she gives him nothing, he has nothing to attack her with.

“I don’t want to impose on your arrangement, Hanji,” Eren says, scratching his arm before balling his fist on the tabletop. “If you don’t want to have me there, that’s all right. But I want to assist as far as I can. If you’ll let me, that is.”

“Seriously, Eren. We don’t have–” Hanji begins, but is cut off by Levi. 

“We do, four-eyes. Tonight. And you know it.” 

She beams, grasping her last tactic. “But I have to go soon. I have to write reports for Zackley–”

“No,” Levi says, calling her lie. “I prefer to not knock you out for this, but you know that doesn’t stop me. We’ve waited too long already.”

She pouts. “I thought we were past this, Levi.”

“We’ll never be past this.” His eyes are firm, doing that thing they always do when he won’t take no for an answer. “Not unless you start dragging yourself out of this shit. Do you think I fucking enjoy manhandling you like this once a month? This is not for my sick amusement, nor do I expect you to take any sudden enthusiasm in it. It’s your life we’re speaking of though, and I won’t let you toss it away because of some crap like this. We’ve come too far for that.”

Eren’s palpable unease increases with every further word Levi says, and now he leans forward, looking at Hanji. “Would I be disturbing or upsetting you?” he asks, searching her face. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by being in there.” 

She blinks at him, equal parts pleading and surprised by his assumption. She will have to face a shower that scares the fucking shit out of her like nothing else ever could. But he is anxious about making her uncomfortable with his presence? 

“No, of course not, Eren,” she says, trying to convey with her expression he is one of the two people she loves most in this world. “This has nothing to do with you though.”

“It has everything to do with me,” he says, big green eyes darkening with a frown as he stretches his arm beneath the table, into Levi’s direction. “But that’s not the issue here.”

Hanji looks down at her hands in her lap, trying to find the right excuse to maybe make the plans go away after all. It feels as if she’s got to press the words up through a hardening barrier expanding in her throat, cutting off her oxygen supply. Maybe she can appeal to Eren’s sympathy.

“It won’t be pretty,” she says.

When Eren speaks again, his voice is mild, yet determined. “I’m aware of that. I’m not here to judge. Besides,” he adds. “It’s not like you never saw me at my worst.” 

Her eyes search his in a wordless exchange, multiple situations flashing through Hanji’s head. What he probably regards as his worst is nothing compared to what he’ll see should they go through with this. All it will do is make him worry and look at her with that helpless, forlorn shadow in his eyes he’s been just able to discard after years of carrying it around. Hanji also never thought of Eren as ugly and weak, but what she’ll expose in that tub is nothing but that. 

However, his expressive eyes look at her, kind and pleading, and maybe it’s time he knew. Levi shouldn’t bear this burden alone if he doesn’t have to. Hanji can tell how it eats on him, knows how he hates the task, even as the dutiful creature of habit he is. He loathes having to hurt her in her agitation. She doesn’t need his reminder to know. She can see it in his eyes every time he brings it up, can smell it any time he drags her into a bathroom. If Eren wants to help Levi with this embarrassing and degrading assignment, Hanji shouldn’t deprive Levi of that. 

Furthermore, as the quietness stretches, Eren’s gaze seems to ask her whether she doesn’t trust him enough, and Hanji won’t let him have any doubt about that. She trusts him blindly with her life. If anyone can help her come back to herself after facing water trying to drag her down into drowning more than Levi does, it’s Eren.

She sags on her seat with a defeated nod, heart speeding up even more until she feels it throb on her tongue. “All right.” 

“Thank you,” Eren says, hand reaching for her arm to squeeze it. His fingers are so warm and gentle it helps Hanji fight her rising panic. 

She wonders how long they want to give her. One minute? Five? An hour? Admitted, the count doesn’t matter. Levi could have announced it a year in advance, and Hanji’s heart would pound in her ears no less. It’s why she almost prefers it when he makes quick work of it, taking her by surprise so it will be over before she has too much time to freak out. 

Eren seems to know this too since he gnaws on his lip, glancing at Levi once more, who looks at Hanji. 

“Now?” Levi says. 

And Hanji’s world turns red. 


	19. Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter, everybody! 
> 
> I know, it's technically still a day to the feast, and I wanted to gift this chapter to you as an Easter Special on Sunday. But this week was a little gift from the pits of hell, and after my writing programme gave me a little scare this morning on top of everything, I not only need this chapter out of the danger zone, but I also need something to feel accomplished. So voila. 
> 
> Before we start: [the lovely Nono drew fanart for this chapter](http://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/post/184316849765/its-been-months-since-the-lovely-9-69-drew-this), and after hugging it since last autumn, I'm finally able to share it with you guys. Please check it out; I love how it glows with warmth so beautifully. 
> 
> We'll be back on the regular bi-weekly posting schedule by Monday in a week. For now, have this little extra in the hope the holidays gift you with some time to binge and indulge in. Enjoy. <3

“No!” Hanji yells. “No, no, no, please! Let me go!”

Eren’s stomach clenches.

Hanji sat quietly at their table less than two minutes ago. Now she is screaming, kicking, and fighting for her life, descending into raging panic. Her “help!” goes under in a wheeze as Levi drags her into the corridor, Eren on his heels.

“I changed my mind. Let me go!” Hanji’s feet hit the walls, press against the plastering in her resistance, though one slips from a sock that falls to the floor. “I don’t want him to see me like this. Please!” 

She thrusts against Levi’s momentum, trying to escape his grip as he crosses the threshold to the bathroom. Her fingers find hold on the wooden door frame, and she clutches at it. 

“Shit,” Levi hisses, giving her a tug, and her fingers slip away, nails leaving scratch marks on the beam.

“No!” she shrills, arms stretching in a feeble attempt to escape after all. Then Levi heaves her into the tub, and her shrieks turn into sobs as she buckles. Knees, feet, and elbows slam against the porcelain, the thuds echoing in the bathroom with her cries. “Stop it. Stop!”

“Close the door,” Levi says over his shoulder, and Eren obeys in a hurry. 

Although he braced himself for it, and he and Levi talked this through again during breakfast, no explaining could have prepared Eren for how terrified Hanji is in this moment. Her ongoing thumps and wails slice his guts. They burn on his skin, send adrenaline into his veins, and he balls his fists as he reminds himself they have to do this. They must. 

“I hate you!” Hanji howls, lashing about to loosen Levi’s grip.

Levi doesn’t reply further than looking at Eren. “Better remove her glasses too.”

Manoeuvring them off her head, Eren places them onto the sink before stepping into the tub to take over the flailing, clawing beast that is his friend. He strengthens his clasp, instinct kicking in and demanding him to fight when Hanji nearly wrestles herself out of his grip. 

“Hold on tight,” Levi says, adjusting the shower head with one hand and holding on to Hanji with the other.

“Got her.” Eren gasps as aimless hands pummel his chest, his throat, his shoulders. “I’ve got her. Focus on the water.” 

Hanji’s greasy hair rubs his nose and catches in his mouth, making Eren gag. Turning his face, he spits it out, resisting the impulse to let go. Oh, she really smells bad.

“Please, let me go! Stop!” Her fists hit Eren’s face with a thundering blow, and Levi growls. 

“Let her thrash,” Eren says, breathing through his mouth as he blinks the throbbing dizziness away. “I don’t mind. It will heal.”

Hanji brawls on. “Why can't you leave me alone! I like myself as I am.”

“You stink,” Levi says. “And if you continue like this, there won't be anything of you left soon.”

“I don’t care!”

“Tough shit.” The taps jar, their squeaks an ominous wail. “Water,” Levi warns right before the spray erupts from above. 

“No!” Hanji yelps, coughs some water, and increases her writhing, feet lifting off the porcelain in an attempt to outbalance Eren. “Why do you have to help him? Why?”

“I’m sorry, Hanji,” Eren says while Levi scoops water into her face. “We don’t want you to get sick.”

“No!” Her shrieks start to sound more like sobs. “Please. Please, Levi, don’t. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

She tries to free herself again, so Eren hoists her higher, not letting go when her heels hit his shins.

Levi waters her front, managing to soak Hanji from her sternum downwards and Eren right with her. The spray is hot, but not nearly as hot as Levi would prefer for himself. 

“Let me go, Eren!” Her fists are still flying through the air, punching everything in their reach. “I need to get out! Out! No!”

“You’re almost out now,” Levi states, tending to her head. Water splashes off her, hitting him and Eren both, wetting Levi's shirt and pants. 

“Hold on, Hanji,” Eren wheezes as her elbow thrusts into his chest. “It will all be over soon. I’ve got you.”

“Eren,” she whimpers, kicks again. Snivels. “Don’t let me get into the water. Don’t. It will kill me. Don’t let it kill me, please.”

Levi curses. 

“It won’t,” Eren coos. His throat is so strained it hurts to speak. “It’s like rain.”

“It’s not! It’s dragging me down!”

“Fuck.” Levi lets more water run over her face and into her mouth, triggering a coughing fit. “A bit longer and she’ll calm down. I hope. She mostly stops fighting as soon as her hair is wet.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” she blubbers, face contorting. “How could you let him watch!”

“He’s not watching, he’s holding you up, four-eyes,” Levi says before looking at Eren again. 

“I’m fine,” Eren insists, though he aches with her fright as his fingers catch in her snarled hair. Frowning at the matted strands, he starts to undo the greasy knots with gentle fingers while he holds the shuddering and fighting woman close with his other arm. “I’ve got her. I’ve got you, Hanji. You’re safe with us.”

“I hate you!” Hanji wriggles in Eren’s clasp so he has to adjust his grip as she manages to turn around and face him. “It hurts,” she whimpers, hands clawing for purchase in Eren’s shirt as she climbs up onto his feet.  

“I know,” Levi says. “First part is over soon.” His lips shut into a tense, thin line, and he doesn’t flinch one bit as he rubs water into Hanji’s hair. 

It’s so oily, it’s as hydrophobic as herself. 

Meanwhile tending to her longer strands, Eren grimaces at the smeary dirt catching under his nails but continues his work, teeth clenched together with grim satisfaction when the first of the gunk sluices down into the drain. They’ve yet to scrub her with soap, but it’s a start.

Whether Levi was right, or his and Eren’s words somehow got through to her, something seems to change, and Hanji’s grip turns from struggling against Eren to a clutching hug. Her face presses into the crook of his neck as she shakes and snivels, her resistance evaporating into the surrounding steam.

“Okay,” Levi sighs, minimising the spray without shutting it off entirely. “I think she’s wet enough. Let’s get her undressed.” 

With combined effort, they manage to pry Hanji’s death grip open, and undress her. Levi working on the pants, Eren on the intractable wood buttons of her shirt that clings to her body as she cowers in their midst. 

He peels her out of one lapel, and suppresses a curse as it reveals the grime underneath, grey and unhealthy, partly broken up by stripes where Hanji must have scratched her itching skin. Scowling at the sickening slime, Eren presses his teeth together and concentrates on the task as solidifying coldness takes over his body, pushing his nausea and convulsing insides into a faint distance. 

“I hate you for doing this to me,” she whimpers. “I hate you for seeing me like this. I wanted to protect you.”

“I don’t see anyone but you, Hanji,” Eren says as calmly as he can, trying to take even and deep breaths. He frees Hanji’s arm, then the other, tosses the dirty shirt into the tub where it lands with a smack, and works on the bindings around her chest that seem to have sponged up the filth and also reek of sweat. 

Levi must have seen it too, or maybe her pants look the same, since he hisses. “How many times have I told you to change regularly, Hanji?” he demands with a slight hitch in the words. “Why can’t you just once listen to what I say. Fuck!” 

Her arms fold around her chest as her teeth start to chatter. “I couldn’t find any.”

“Then get some new ones.” His voice is firm and bitter in the misty bathroom. His eyes are full of panic. “Shit.”

“I’ll do it,” Eren says. “Buy her the clothes, I mean.” Hell, he’d give her his own clothes if necessary.

He’s freed Hanji from her bindings and chucks them aside too before he takes her crying face into his hands, running his thumbs over her cheeks. Anger seethes in his guts, white ire at whoever is responsible for Hanji having to go through this kind of nightmare simply to get clean. Yet he can’t change anything about it now, and Hanji needs him here, so he shoves the rising need for revenge aside, redirecting it into an urge to protect. 

“It’s okay, Hanji,” he says, holding scared, hazel eyes that usually are so fierce. “We’re here. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Pants are gone,” Levi says, kicking the discarded clothes aside before pushing the wet hair out of his face. “Thank fuck. Now, where’s that fucking soap?”

“You’re safe with us,” Eren assures Hanji at another whimper quivering through her. 

Lunging to climb him, she leeches onto Eren, wrapping her legs so tight around his waist it knocks the air out of his lungs. 

Hands full of trembling, naked Hanji, he rubs her back. Her heart races so strong it thunders against his chest, making him fasten his grip around her. 

“It’s all right, Hanji,” he says, his words stopping an absent-minded melody he didn’t realise he started to hum. Awash with images of his mother rocking him as a child when he had nightmares, Eren swallows and picks up the tune. Pressing her close with one arm, he sways from side to side while his other hand works on freeing more knots from Hanji’s hair so it will be easier to get it clean.

“Eren,” she snivels. “Don’t let me fall into the water. Please. I’ll be good. Don’t let the water drag me down.”

“That’s right, Hanji. I’ve got you. I won’t let the water drag you down. We both won’t.” He meets grey eyes through the steam, pausing his assurances at Levi’s expression as the water rains down on all three of them. 

Levi’s soaked-black hair sticks to his pale brow, sending rivulets down his sharp cheekbones. His shirt clings to his chest, half-transparent from being drenched. He blinks with a ponderous scowl, water running down from his chin, blue soap bar in his sinking hand, and Eren realises Levi is bewildered. 

“I think she’s okay with me being here,” he says over Hanji’s shoulder. 

“Seems so,” Levi says, taking in Hanji wrapped around Eren so tight he doesn’t even have to hold her in return to keep her in his rocking arms. Levi’s eyes meet Eren’s in something like relief. 

Eren swallows down a resolved smile, and then they start the scrubbing. 

 

*

 

By the time they’re done, Hanji's skin is red from the treatment, yet clean. As is her hair, her face, and her entire body, from the spots behind her ears all the way down to the spaces between her toes. 

“Once every month again, four-eyes,” Levi says as he screws the water off. “Not a day longer. This shit has to fucking stop.”

She sniffs. “Sorry, Eren. Sorry, Levi.” 

Eren can’t tell whether it’s the impending frequency she’s apologising for or for having them witness what they saw, but it doesn’t matter either way. None of it does.

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles into her upper arm that smells of mild soap before he picks up the humming and cradling again. 

Untangling her from Eren to wash her front without hindrance was impossible, but she loosened her grasp enough to allow Levi to place his hands between them and scrub her. Even now with the water off, she clings to Eren for dear life, making no effort to release her hold. 

Despite the sheer force she’s hugging him with and her muscular weight, she feels so small and delicate in his arms Eren is reminded of Selma. It’s like holding a wounded bird in his hands and having its panicky tiny heartbeat beneath soft feathers and fragile bones against his palm, knowing one small, wrong movement will crush a beautiful creature and leave behind nothing but pain. 

He kisses the top of her head. “It’s all right, Hanji.” 

She sniffs again and nods into the crook of his neck, arms tightening their grip as some of her tension eases. 

Peering over her shoulder, Eren meets Levi’s gaze and finds a mild smile at his appearance, in spite of everything. He really looks good dripping wet. His eyes scan Eren’s, and seeing him stand there, a step away from Hanji and himself as though he didn’t belong with them, Eren’s chest aches.

He wants to reach out and pull Levi into his arms too, yet they’re already full, and Levi won’t allow it in here. Not like this. Not even with Hanji as their only witness. So Eren rubs Hanji’s back, holding Levi’s gaze as he tries to convey with his eyes what he can’t say out loud.  _ It’s over. I’m here. I love you. Thank you. _

Levi closes his mouth and pushes inky-wet hair out of his face. “Let him breathe, four-eyes. Water’s off.”

Eren smiles when Hanji’s grip eases without letting go. “Do you want to get out?” he asks. 

“Don’t let me go,” she says.

“I won’t.” Cradling her close, he manoeuvres out of the slippery tub with a steadying hand from Levi, rubbing Hanji's bare back when he stands with both feet on the solid floor. 

“Hanji?” He asks when she still doesn’t move, ignoring the water running down his drenched clothes to pond between his toes. “We’re out.”

She whimpers, nods against his neck, and without loosening her grasp on him, she slowly lets her feet touch ground. Her legs wobble at first, but gain steadiness while Levi follows them out of the tub, still fully clothed as well and not caring about the accumulating puddles on the floor. 

He seizes the prepared towel hanging from the hook, rubs Hanji’s shoulders, her spine, sides, and gently, her hair before he tries to wrap her into the cloth, with negligible success. In the end, he tucks the edges between her and Eren. “You can let him go, four-eyes,” he says. “It’s over now.”

Hanji shakes her head, clasping tighter again. “No. He won’t let me drown.” 

Levi scowls and looks at Eren in a silent question.

“It’s okay,” Eren replies, right hand moving up into Hanji’s damp hair to rub small soothing circles into her nape and scalp. “We can stand here for a while. I don’t mind. Her pulse is calming down already.” 

“Mm.” Worried, grey eyes roam over them, dripping pale fingers tapping against soaked black pants, and Eren understands. 

“She doesn’t normally do this, does she?” he asks, keeping his voice quiet as his fingers continue their massage. 

“No,” Levi says. “I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on.”

“Don’t push me away,” Hanji pleads.

Wrapping his free arm tighter around her in return, Eren kisses her forehead. “I won’t. Not unless you want me to.” Meeting Levi’s eyes again, he chews on his bottom lip. He’s rarely seen him this flabbergasted.

“Get out of those clothes,” Eren tells him. With the task over, he’s becoming aware of how his own attire sticks to him like a second wrinkled and twisted skin. It’s stretching and tautening in places it shouldn’t, the wet fabric heavy enough to constrict his movements and cool with condensation. “You must be cold. We’ll be okay here.”

Levi still looks irritated, but after a heartbeat, he nods. Stepping back into the tub, he discards his shirt, pants, and drawers, letting them fall right where he stands, their smacking sounds echoing in the steam-damp room. 

As Levi reaches for a towel to rub himself dry, Hanji sighs against Eren, and he croons another melody from his childhood.  _ It’s okay, _ he thinks while he lets the tunes flow.  _ I’m here. We both are. We will protect you. _

Sensing Hanji’s breath quieten down, his hairbrush beside the sink catches Eren’s attention. Maybe combing Hanji’s strands will help her calm even faster. Her mane needs further untangling anyway. Stretching forward, Eren takes the brush, sustaining his crooning as he works. 

Apparently dry, Levi slings the towel around his hips, wrings the heap of discarded items out, and after draping them over the tub’s edge, he proceeds to the sink to wash Hanji’s glasses. Though his prior tension has abated, traces of it still linger in the square set of his shoulders, forming a wary shield.

“You all right, four-eyes?” he asks when he shakes the spectacles dry. 

She nods with another sniff. “Any moment. Just need to stay here a little longer. ‘s nice. Helps. Pretty song.”

“It’s okay,” Eren promises again, presses his lips against her temple, and lets her cling on for as long as she needs as he continues his quiet humming and brushing. At least he no longer has to rock her.

It takes Hanji five more minutes to let go of Eren, if not of the protecting armour of her towel. She sniffs as she turns to Levi, so he rewraps her into it, and whatever wordless conversation they lead as Levi tucks her in the proper way, it seems they’re both a bit surprised about what occurred. 

Eren wouldn’t know, but it appears to have gone better than expected. He leaves them to themselves, putting his hairbrush back on the shelf before he wipes the wet hair out of his face and peels himself out of his soggy clothes. Stripping leaves him with a thin wet sheen cooling his skin, making goosebumps rise up his arms. He’s about to wring out his shirt when Levi steps up to his side. 

“Give it to me,” he says, holding out a towel in exchange. “Get dry.” 

Eren obeys. As he watches Levi’s strong fingers wringing the excess water out of his clothes, and Hanji closing her eyes in her cocoon next to them, he ponders whether this is how it will always be between the three of them. If there will always be one of them breaking down while the others make sure the world keeps turning. Supplying a steady frame and shield.

It’s an odd sort of comfort in the thought. To know you’ll be caught; and though it fills him with pride to be part of something this good, he also wonders whether it’s selfish to be grateful for being the one taking care this time instead of it being the other way around. He usually feels like everyone always bends to his mood and temper, waiting for him to blow up only so they can pick up the pieces for him like Levi did yesterday, and so many times before. It’s good to give that back for once.

“Pants?” Levi asks after casting a watchful glance at Hanji. 

Hanging his towel over his shoulder, Eren shimmies out of his trousers too, steadied by a firm hand seizing his elbow when his balance wavers halfway through the first trouser leg. 

“Thanks,” he says, tugging the stubborn thing off entirely before handing it over. 

Levi hums with a scrutinising, albeit mild gaze before wringing out the pants, squeezing pattering water drops into the tub while Eren pushes down his drawers, handing them over as well. As he picks up the towel from the floor and wraps it around his hips, Eren’s eyes are drawn to the line of Levi’s back. It’s so strong. A pale curve in the dim light from the corridor, strewn with silvery scars and purplish red half moons from Eren’s nails where his grief from the previous evening carved deep. They speckle Levi’s shoulder blades, some of the marks blurring into desperate bruises in the shape of Eren’s fingertips. 

The sight isn’t new. Eren saw what he did when they left the narrow bed in his quarters and many times after. Levi shrugged it off when Eren first noticed them with a curse, telling him he’s had worse before wiping away Eren’s repentance with a multitude of languid kisses and quiet assurances whispered against his lips. 

Eren can’t thank Levi enough for holding him yesterday. He tried—he said it—yet the mere words aren’t enough. They still feel clumsy and stiff. Words cannot convey how much it meant to have someone understand where he couldn’t understand himself, feeling so embarrassed. 

He never wanted to lose it like he had. Not ever, but especially not in front of Levi. Levi shouldn’t have to console someone who, without knowing why, suddenly felt so overwhelmed. One moment he watched Levi and listened to him talk about his day, happy and grateful for having him there. The next, everything inside of him hurt. 

He didn’t expect Levi to walk away and leave him there. Levi always knows the right thing to do in any situation. Eren didn’t expect to feel Levi’s heart racing against his touch though. Neither to be carried to bed and held in an embrace that made him feel more protected and safe than he’s ever been. It was like Levi built a solid fortress around the two of them, and guided Eren to the quietest place when his nerves were so on fire it felt as though the entire world was burning. It was like being fixed.

Levi has always been his safety net. His ever-steady rock.

The same seems to be true for Hanji.

Looking at the terse line of Levi’s jaw as he places Eren’s trousers next to his on the bath rim and smoothes out some creases, Eren wishes he knew how to be the same kind of rock for him in return.

“Warm pyjamas for us all, and some whisky, I’d say,” Levi suggests when he’s finished, a faint question at the end raising his voice.

“I’ll keep the towel for a bit longer,” Hanji replies, blinking at Eren when Levi grunts and pads into the bedroom. “Sorry you had to see that, Eren.” Her glasses are back on her nose after Levi put them there, and she’s so thoroughly swathed, it’s like Levi gathered all her boundless energy and tied it up into a single neat parcel to keep it from falling apart.

Warmed by the thought, Eren runs a hand over her combed hair. It looks so strange, loose and fluffed-up as it is. “It’s okay. Thank you for letting me help.”

The sound of drawers being opened and shut sound from the room across the corridor, and Hanji nods in the direction, understanding before Eren has to ask. “Go to him. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” 

“You caught me,” she replies, a smile appearing on her face as she adds, “You saved me.”

Squeezing her shoulder, Eren returns her smile. “Any time, Hanji. Call me if you need anything.”

“For now, I only need the whisky. And I know where that is.”

Letting her wiggle her way towards the living room, Eren follows Levi into the bedroom. He stands in front of the dresser, a pair of undergarments resting on its top, whilst Levi scowls into an opened drawer. 

Upon Eren’s approach, he stills, and releases a long soundless sigh before his clear eyes scan Eren for any harm. “Need to rest?” he asks.

“No,” Eren replies, leaning against the door frame to give him some space if he needs it. “I’m fine. I rested all day.”

“You cleaned and wrestled the new chair upstairs,” Levi points out. 

Eren brushes the diversion aside with a shrug. “I had to do something.” 

He tried to keep his promise to do as little as possible, but after laying around in bed for an additional thirty minutes, staring at the ceiling became boring. It didn’t help knowing what Levi wanted to talk about with Historia after Eren questioned him about it during breakfast. 

It shouldn’t make a difference to know Levi would try to make their engagement into an official prospect to the Queen. It really shouldn’t. Even without making the deal, Levi would find another way to get what he wants. What they want. 

Letting only one person in on their intentions, even if downplaying them by telling they would perhaps consider this, made Eren feel restless. The anticipation for the arriving chair didn’t soothe his jittering nerves either. So he left the bed to spend the morning dusting, mopping the floor, rearranging the other two chairs to make way, and grooming the hearth whilst checking the street outside from the living room window every time a carriage clattered by. His pulse an unyielding throb in his throat, beating an elating  _ engaged-engaged-engaged, soon-soon-soon, _ against his ribs. 

The mere thought of Levi taking this step sent a tingling sensation down Eren’s spine. It enhanced his senses, sped up his breath, and set him so alight his own hair soon titillated his neck with every turn of his head. Willing it away didn’t change anything, and while morning advanced, the prickling spread further and further, coiled sharp-aching-tight in lower regions until it was impossible for him to move without shivers running up his arms. Demanding touch.

When the problem didn’t go away, Eren went back to bed, buried his nose in Levi’s pillow, and let the memory of Levi’s self-assured fingers teasing him only a few hours earlier slip around him. Grey eyes, dark and shining. Pale skin warm, voice deep and breathless when he called Eren’s name. Moaning when Eren lost himself.

With these images swirling in his head, Eren didn’t even have to wrap his hand around himself to be close to bursting; one single inhale from the pillow was enough to coax a groan from his throat and make his hips buck. The pleasure peaked with a hot white spike after one-two-three good pulls, making him come to a soft cry of relief parting his lips. Knees falling to the sides, he stroked on, pumping himself through the afterglow, slow and careful, until the rush abated. He pressed his smile into the downs, sighed at their Levi-scent, and then cleaned himself up, rearranged the bed sheets, and set out to heat Levi lunch. 

There are worse ways to spend his free day, he muses, although all the wanking in the world cannot change the fact the initial excitement remains as a constant buzzing beneath his skin. Like a relentless itch he can’t scratch.

So, all right, he isn’t fully rested in every sense of the word, yet Eren feels better. Having his eyes open doesn’t hurt anymore, which can only be a good thing. The pressure residing in his head all week has subsided, and not filling it up with new problems right away has eased the tension in his shoulders as well. 

Tension stresses Levi’s shoulders though, even more so than before Hanji’s shower. It’s stretching down his back in a strained, alert line. His pale muscles are taut, his breaths a bit too controlled. He also wears the experienced mask of detachment on his face that’s forbidding anyone to doubt his composure in an unspoken warning to  _ stay the fuck away. _

Eren has never known how to do that. Plus he recognises the facade, including all its fissuring cracks. So he ignores the glower, pushing himself off the door frame to shuffle closer and step up behind Levi. 

“You’re brooding by yourself,” he says, pressing against Levi’s bare, strong, scar-scattered back. “Stop it.”

Levi remains rigid for a moment, yet Eren runs his palms over his flat stomach, and Levi sighs, reclining against Eren’s chest. “Yes.” 

Smiling, Eren kisses the top of his head. “Tell me.”

The answer doesn’t come right away, and Eren hums into Levi’s hair.  _ Take your time. _

Levi’s fingers tap on the drawer as he exhales. Inhales. “I have no fucking clue what fucking happened in there.”

“It went well.” It was meant as a statement, yet sounds more like a question to his own ears.

The warm muscles beneath Eren’s fingertips contract as Levi huffs. “Yes. I think so. I don’t fucking know. She usually never recovers this quickly. She never cooperates so well with being scrubbed either.” 

“She never leaps onto you?” Eren asks. 

Levi huffs. “I’m not exactly the huggey type, am I?”

“I beg to differ,” Eren mumbles. When Levi makes a more protesting than determined attempt to sneak his way out of his embrace, Eren rolls his eyes, tightening his grip to keep him encased. “I know that’s not how you meant it. And you stay right here.” 

Their eyes meet in an awkward angle, and the incredulity stands so open on Levi’s face, Eren can’t help but snort before pressing a wet smack against Levi’s temple. Though the amusement quickly dissipates in consideration of the recent events, it seems to help. Levi relaxes, and as he turns around in Eren’s arms, face pressing against Eren’s sternum and arms sneaking around his waist, Eren smiles into the black damp strands beneath his nose, flooded with a sense of rightfulness. 

_ Yes, _ he thinks while warm breath fans against his naked chest in an unsteady rhythm.  _ Let me be a rock for you too.  _

Fingers running up Levi’s spine, Eren rubs the kinks out of Levi’s neck while the abating drip-drip-drip echoes from the showerhead in the bathroom. Clanking sounds from the living room suggest Hanji found the whisky. Yet, in this room, their quiet breathing that morphs into a synchronising in and out and in again, is the only sound. Harmonic, easy. 

Good. 

“You’re still here,” Levi says. 

Eren hums, swallowing against the tide of emotions when images of the previous evening rush past his inner eyes. It’s the exact same thought he had yesterday when he was laying in his old bed, opened his sore, cried-out eyes, and saw Levi looking at him. His expression filled with concern and steady security. It had made everything easier, so easy to reach for Levi’s hand to ensure he was real. To finally get all those things off his chest was long overdue. He already wondered then…

He didn’t expect Levi to stay in bed with him after his tears abated. Didn’t expect him to lie there, and indulge in a conversation that wouldn’t only ease the last years, but even resolve them. Nor did he expect Levi would release what’s on his mind right now. 

It’s not easy for Levi to open up and admit thoughts, let alone emotions, out loud. Yet he did last night, and is doing so now once more. For him. He even took on the Queen of Paradis this noon. For Eren’s sake. 

That alone is proof enough Levi didn’t fear Eren would abandon his promise to help him with Hanji and abandon them both to the task. All the same, they aren’t used to good things happening, or situations turning out to be good in the end. After a while you become so accustomed to storms, it rips the floor away from your feet when the clouds clear. It requires a moment of recollecting afterwards.

“Not going anywhere,” Eren repeats Levi’s promise from the night before, and hums into inky hair when strong arms hug him closer.

A triplet set of pyjamas on the dresser in front of him catches his attention, bringing back the memory of peeling Hanji out of grimy fabric. 

“Are her clothes always that dirty?” Eren asks, scowling at the thought.

Levi scoffs, his chin scratching against Eren’s chest. “No. Today was a whole new level of fucked up shit. Guess she forgot with all the hullabaloo happening this week.”

Feeling the hairs prickle on his bare back at the murderous ice in Levi’s voice, Eren holds him close, thumbs brushing over the silky stubbles of Levi’s undercut. He almost expects him to dress, grab his knives, and declare he’s going after Claudio tonight. It might not change anything about Hanji’s situation, but it would be extremely satisfying for the both of them. Maybe Hanji would even join their forces. The thought makes Eren smile again.

“Good we didn’t wait then,” he says when Levi doesn’t move. “Thank you for letting me help.”

Tilting his head, Levi looks at him. Grey eyes inscrutable, brows drawn together. Fingers resting on Eren’s towel-covered hip bones.

“What,” Eren prods.

“She said you won’t let her drown.”

Eren frowns. “Of course, I wouldn’t.” 

“She’s from a fishermen’s family.”

He is about to say,  _ Yeah. And?  _ but he puts two and two together. “Oh…” 

So Hanji knows how to swim. 

Why would someone as fearless as Hanji be terrified of drowning when they are able to swim? Or are he and Levi missing something? Did someone try to drown Hanji when she was younger to create such terror in her when it comes to standing water? Maybe even in the tub?

Resolve bursts into energy rushing all over Eren’s body at the thought, urging him to stomp out of this room, to challenge the world if he has to, and get to the bottom of the mystery. But then he remembers it’s Friday evening, and Hanji is waiting for them in the living room. She’s bathed for now, yet still raw. As much as he wants to solve this puzzle right away, Hanji already had a week filled with too much interrogation. What she needs are a few quiet hours after her shower without him pestering her with questions about something she doesn’t even talk about with Levi. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, hands fastening around Levi’s waistline in grim determination. “I’ll help out more from now on.”

“Mm.” Calloused fingers on his hips squeeze lightly before the thumbs start to draw little circles into his stomach. 

“I’ll make sure she changes in the future too.”

“Ask Tom for help if you need anything at HQ.”

Eren doubts that will be necessary but he shrugs. “Okay.” 

Levi’s ongoing caresses are distracting, sending a steady stream of prickling sparks into Eren’s lower belly, and as Eren holds his gaze with a grin, he can see the worst worries lift from Levi’s features. 

“If we stay in here any longer, she’ll think we’re fucking,” Levi says, a faint smirk playing around his mouth as his gaze roams over Eren’s face.

He chuckles. “I bet she wouldn’t mind.” Come to think of it, he wouldn’t put it past her to forthright ask if she can watch.

Thoughts clearly on the same track, Levi’s eyes glitter at a snort, and fuck, he’s beautiful when he smiles, dressed in only a towel, and smelling of soap and mirth. “We should get dressed and tell her about Briar.” 

Water beads run from his damp strands, land in a myriad of drops resting on his shoulders to sparkle there in the faint light, and beg Eren to lick them off.

“Mm,” he says, hands pulling Levi closer as he bends down. “In a minute.” Taking Levi’s lips, he relishes the responding sigh and sets out to erase every last trace of gloomy thoughts from Levi’s mind. At least for the moment.

 

*

 

When they join Hanji at the hearth, a generous gulp is missing from the whisky bottle, and Hanji is refilling her glass. The panic is all but gone from her eyes, and though she’s still a bit pale, the first flush of spirit is colouring her cheeks. 

“There you are.” She peers up at them, mild mischief lighting up her face as she sets her glass down. “I thought I’d have to check on you lovebirds soon.” 

Eren hasn’t opened his mouth to reply when Hanji lunges from her brand new chair and crashes into Levi’s chest, knocking him back a step.

A huffed “oomph!” tells of air leaving Levi’s lungs before he starts to struggle against her vice-like grip. “Oi, four-eyes, let go.”

“I love you guys,” Hanji sighs, disregarding Levi’s protest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Though Levi squirms in what looks like an indignant attempt to flee her smothering, he can’t put much force into it, otherwise, he’d have shoved Hanji—who jerks him from side to side—away by now. Rubbing his flannel-covered ribs that still itch with the reminder of Hanji’s strength, Eren smiles at the two of them, catching Levi’s gaze as he gasps. 

“Can’t breathe, you lunatic.”

“You can still complain,” Eren points out before he knows what he’s saying. The silver-flashing glare he receives for his comment, he takes with a snort and bright amusement bursting in his stomach. Sensing it tingle all over at Levi’s continued gaze, he lifts both hands and takes a steady stance with a statement-setting grin.  _ I’m not helping you. _

He won’t. This is Levi’s struggle. It’s harmless, he’s sure they both need the hug anyway, and—quite frankly—it’s fun to watch Levi fight for his poise. It happens rarely enough.

Some seconds later, Levi gives in. He sighs towards the ceiling, stops his wriggling, and moves his arms forward to pat Hanji’s back. “There,” he says. Although he looks as if the gesture demands a great deal of him, his low quiet voice lacks any bite whatsoever. He pats again. “Happy now?” 

“Very,” Hanji replies with a squeeze that coaxes a final wheeze out of Levi. She cackles as she draws back and rearranges her towel. “Thank you, Short Stack. I needed that. It was long overdue, don’t you think?”

“Oh, fuck off,” he says, waving her off before fleeing into the kitchen. 

Chuckling at Levi’s somewhat ruffled appearance yet giving him a moment to recover, Eren turns to Hanji. “I’m glad you’re better.”

Smiling, she enfolds him in a—this time, gentle and brief—embrace before she plops back into her chair. “All thanks to you! Drink, Eren?” She lifts the whisky bottle, nodding at Levi’s share already waiting for him on his side of the coffee table. “We can make it a round for three.”

“No, thanks,” Eren says with a smile. He’s done with drinking pure whisky. “But do you want some tea, Hanji?”

“Yuck, no.” She shakes herself with a wink. “You can have all the nasty green stuff you want.” 

Eren squeezes her shoulder before he joins Levi in the kitchen to assist with brewing a new batch of tea and carrying three slices of chocolate cake to the coffee table. 

“Oh, dessert,” Hanji cheers as Eren hands her one of the plates. She puts her glass down to inspect the pastry from up close. “And such a fancy one too. What are we celebrating?” She grins between them. “An announcement?”

Eren’s heart jumps up his throat again at the thought, and he has a hard time not to glance at Levi who lowers himself into his leather armchair with a sigh. Not yet, he reminds himself, clutching tight to his dessert plate in an attempt to control his heating pulse. Fuck…this will truly happen, won’t it? And if he’s this nervous when Levi hasn’t even asked him yet, how will it be when Levi does ask? Maybe Eren will explode.

“No,” Levi says, his calm reply pulling Eren out of his reverie. “Not yet.”

Hanji frowns for about a second before her cheeks swell in a grin. “Not yet, huh? Why not? You know Eren doesn’t get any younger, don’t you? What are you waiting for?”

“None of your nosy business,” Levi says, pouring Eren and himself their tea as though this is any normal conversation when Eren’s nerves seem to burn with excitement.

Hanji cackles. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. What did our Queen have to say to that anyway?”

“The Queen can sod off.”

Laughing, Hanji turns to Eren. “Isn’t he cute when he’s grumpy?”

“Tch.”

The heat he’s been trying to contain shoots up Eren’s chest for good. Once more refusing to look at Levi, he fumbles for an answer, yet Hanji beats him to it. 

“I take that besotted grin as a yes,” she says with a nod and leans closer, altering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper as she leers between him and Levi. “Don’t let him make you wait for too long, Eren. He doesn’t like to hear it, but he’s getting old as well. Old and cantankerous. Tick tock, you know.”

Levi snorts into his tea, resting one leg over his other knee in a smooth motion as he leans back in his seat and lifts a single sharp brow. “Assumed we were intending to do anything, who says  _ I’m _ the one who has to ask?” 

“Oh, please,” Hanji retorts. “Don’t insult me. Aside from the fact that Eren’s ears glow more than this lovely fire here, and that you are far too relaxed for my taste, I know you both too well. But all right, then. What  _ are _ we celebrating?”

Refusing to cover his blush with still damp hair—it’s too late for that now anyway—Eren lets Levi do the answering. 

“Nothing yet,” he says, and Hanji is right. His voice is far more serene than usual, and behind his cup, his grey eyes gleam in a way that has butterflies bursting in Eren’s stomach. 

Hoping some delicious chocolate cake will calm the turmoil, he takes a generous bite, and frowns when the alleviating effect leaves a lot to be desired. If anything, the sugar increases the wriggly feeling, and Eren sighs to himself. 

So beyond help.

“I call lies,” Hanji says. “But all right. If you insist, let’s say we’re commemorating my groundbreaking success in getting Titan science funded.”

“Now that you mention it,” Levi says, straight out smirking as he sets his cup back down. “We found a healer to deal with Eren’s symptoms. And before you piss your towel and new chair over that, she wants to work with you on a final cure.”

Fire-crackling-laced silence falls over the living room while Hanji blinks at them, gawps, and then explodes to her feet. “Who! Who is this? I can’t believe this! I get additional and capable help? The day I actually get the funds for Titan science through and can afford a second assistant? How could you keep this from me for so long? I knew you were still hiding something. I knew it. Ha!” 

Grinning at the outburst, Eren sets aside his plate with half-finished cake. “Her name is Briar, and she wants to meet you.”

“She wants to meet me?” Hanji’s cheeks glow. “What about Cookie? Is he allowed in too?”

“Mm,” Levi replies with a stoic expression, shoving the note Briar wrote on Wednesday across the coffee table. “She sends you a love letter too.”

“For me?” Hanji beams, ripping open the note before reading it out loud. 

“‘Dear Miss Zoe.’ Oh, so polite, I like her already. ‘As I understand, we’re both passionate people and committed to making Eren’s life a permanent, healthy issue. I am a huge fan of your outstanding work and would very much like to meet you to discuss how to best proceed. As a team, if you don’t mind. I’ll take my next weekend off and would be honoured to learn everything you can tell me about the serum, Eren’s symptoms, including medical issues.’ Oh my god!” Hanji hops up and down as her volume-increasing voice assumes a zeal Eren knows all too well. “‘I’m looking forward to working with you and send all my best regards, Healer Briar.’” 

Awestruck eyes glued to the paper in her hands, Hanji gapes at the lines, mouthing the words  _ honoured to learn everything, _ before she erupts into an explosive mess of flailing hands as she storms forward to throw herself into Eren’s arms. “Oh, this is the best news ever! Ever, ever! I love you!”

Crushed once more by her—this time, enthused—death grip, Eren wheezes a chuckle. “We love you too, Hanji.”

She lets Eren go and throws her arms in the air with such vigour, her towel almost slips off her torso. A second later, she rips her hands down again, cackling at Levi as she punches his arm with such force it would make anyone else flinch. “That’s why you needed to talk to Historia.”

“Partly,” Levi says over her cry, feigning indifference as his fingers brush some invisible dust motes off his knee. “She’ll sign the allowance for Briar to be let in on classified information Monday. Better get the paperwork prepared, four-eyes.”

Beneath his aloof voice and cool composure, there’s a content casualness in Levi’s posture that has Eren fight the urge to leave his chair so he can sink onto Levi’s lap to do some very dirty things. That Levi doesn’t even mention the other part of his deal with Historia makes it all the better. 

Staying put, he clears his throat instead, brushes his fingers over his fawn fur to keep them occupied, and looks at Hanji. “We think you’ll like her,” he says with an untamable grin. Yes, indeed. That meeting will be interesting. 

“Mm,” Levi adds. “She also brought over some herbs for Eren. For medication off the military records. Thought it was appropriate after the shit on Monday.”

“How could you not tell me earlier! Now I know why we’re having such extra yummy cake.”

Lips quirking, Levi shrugs, picking up his whisky with his elegant fingers and a loose wrist. “Felt like a Friday topic, don’t you think.”

“This calls for more alcohol,” Hanji declares, plopping back into her new armchair with another squeak. She refills her glass, adds another swig to Levi’s, and after announcing a toast, she reaches for her untouched piece of chocolate cake, scrutinising Levi and Eren both with gleaming eyes. “I want to know everything, and I won’t leave this chair until I do.” 

 

*

 

It’s long after midnight when Hanji yawns so wide Eren catches it, and Levi declares it’s time for them all to “get some fucking rest.” 

Stretching the kinks out of his back, Eren rises from his armchair, bringing the dishes into the kitchen while Levi adds another thick log to the hearth to keep them warm through the night. 

“Can I stay?” Hanji’s mumble sounds while Eren fills the sink with steaming water and soap scraps. “I’d like to properly inaugurate this chair.”

Drying his hands as he moves back into the living room, Eren leaves the rising pool of dishwater to itself for a moment. “Are you sure that’s all right, Hanji? Of course, you can, but it’s not a bed.”

She slipped into a set of pyjamas an hour into their talk, though her hair still hangs around her face in loose wisps as she rubs her eyes. “I’m sure, Eren. I just don’t want to be alone.”

He shrugs. “Well, okay.” 

“I’ll fetch you the blanket,” Levi says, darting Eren a glance.  _ I should stay here with her. _

Eren looks back and nods.  _ If you want. _

He tends back to the dishes, smiling at Levi when he joins him in the kitchen, taking the tea towel from its hook. The evening has done him good as far as Eren can tell. The worry lines on his brow have faded to a mere trace, and his eyes are clear as he waits for the first item to dry.

“I’ll go to the haberdashery tomorrow to fetch the new linens and order clothes,” Eren says, his fingers working on a dessert plate in the bubbly water. “Should I buy something else?”

Levi hums a no. “Val brought everything we need for now. Enough for breakfast tomorrow with that lunatic over there should she wake up early for a change.”

Catching the lack of venom in the remark, Eren grins. “Okay. We need a new duster though. It’s thinning out.”

“Hm. There’s a brush maker close to Magda’s who is good. A corner down the street. Bought the old one there too.”

“All right. I’ll have a look.”

A cackle comes from the living room. “You’re too fucking sweet,” Hanji slurs. “You know that, right?”

“And you’re plastered,” Levi shoots back. “Pissed as a fart.”

“ _ You’re _ plastered!” Hanji calls. “There’s four of you two. And you’re all blurry. And so sweet. Can I watch you having sex tonight?”

_ And there it is, _ Eren thinks, rinsing the cleaned plate before handing it to Levi.

Taking the dripping dish to dry it with the towel squeaking over the china, he snorts. “You wish, four-eyes.”

“You know I do.” She laughs again. By the sound of her voice she’s lounging in the armchair, leaning against one of the armrests with her head bending back. “I have plenty of sketches of it in my notes, and I need to know whether they are accurate.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Levi mutters under his breath.

“Because you love me, grumpy!” Hanji yells before Eren can reply he isn’t surprised either. “You both love me. Eren told me so. So please, can I?”

Levi sighs. “No.”

“I’ll be quiet,” she stage-whispers. “So quiet. You won’t even know I’m the–”

“No,” Levi insists. “And stop it or I’ll throw you out.”

She blows a raspberry yet otherwise falls silent.

Torn between embarrassment, amusement, and sympathy for Hanji’s impending hangover twisting in his stomach, Eren grimaces with a snort. “Does she always drink this much?” he asks, frowning into the dishwater. 

“She doesn’t.” Levi sets the plate down and brushes an assuring hand over Eren’s lower back before he reaches for a dripping cup. “She saves that for special occasions.” 

Nodding his relief about not having to worry, Eren smiles. “I’m glad she’s feeling better.” 

Levi looks up at him with softening eyes. “So am I.” 

From the living room come exaggerated kissing noises which are interrupted by a giggled hiccup before they continue. 

Levi huffs, yet amusement plays around his lips while he puts the dried cup aside. Eren chuckles.

They finish the dishes, brush their teeth, and after Eren steals a not too chaste good night kiss from Levi that tastes of toothpaste and smiles, they part in the corridor. Levi joining Hanji in the living room, Eren heading towards the bedroom. 

It takes him two steps across the threshold and the sight of the empty, uninviting cold sheets to change his course. This is just silly. He sleeps better with Levi in his arms, Hanji must have slept at her desk all week, and Levi should have better than a chair nap after the week he had too. Plus, there’s no way Eren will sleep alone tonight. 

He arrives in front of the hearth as Levi settles in his armchair and Hanji drapes a thick woven wool blanket around her legs. The oil lamp is already out, but the fire has caught on the new log and sends its glowing shine into the room. 

“Come to bed,” Eren says, looking at the two pairs of eyes blinking up at him, one set brown and smiling, one grey and frowning in mild disagreement. “Come on,” he says again, folding his arms. “Or I’ll sleep here too.” 

“It’s okay, Levi,” Hanji says under another yawn. “Go.”

“No. Both of you,” Eren replies with his chin jerking towards the corridor, because no. None of them will sleep alone tonight.  

They stare at him, then at each other, inhale as one, and Eren rolls his eyes, cutting them off before they have a chance to protest. “If you need to argue about it, do it tomorrow.” He never thought he’d have to use his Instructor voice on them, but apparently, there’s a first time for everything. “I’m going to sleep now, Levi needs someone to warm his feet, and Hanji needs some real rest for a change, especially with the whisky headache coming soon. The bed is big enough for all of us, and what’s more, I’m very huggable and have an arm for each of you.” He turns without further comment.

There’s silence for a moment, and then a commotion of feet shuffling over the floor, following him. A second later, Levi’s cool hand comes to a rest on the small of his back in silent thanks. Smiling, Eren returns the gesture with a brush of his thumb over Levi’s spine. 

“I bet she farts in her sleep,” Levi says, closing the door behind them. 

Hanji yawns with a cackle. “You know I do.”

Eren snorts. “So do I, and better out with it than in,” he says before adding, more serious, “you can sleep on my side, Hanji.”

“See? I told you you need a real and big bed, Levi,” she says with a smug lilt to her voice as she waits for Levi and Eren to slip under the covers first. 

Levi pats his pillow into shape. “You told me that so I can have sex in it.”

Mattress compressing beneath her, Hanji cackles in the dark. “And I hope you use it for that.”

“Not after this night,” Levi grumbles, making more room for Eren in the middle and pulling the blanket over them. 

“Shut up.” Eren rubs his eyes with another yawn. If he doesn’t put a stop to this conversation, it will go on forever. “We are all tired, and this is a bicker-free zone. You two can squabble again in the morning. Or should I kick you? Because I will, and I had good teachers as you know.” 

He smiles to himself when they fall silent, squeezing Levi’s fingers when they reach for his in silent gratitude. 

As Levi snuggles up to his right with his cold feet pressing against Eren’s shins and Hanji curls up on his left, the thought occurs to him whether this should be weird. Then Hanji scuttles nearer with a quiet “Thank you, Eren,” and Eren can’t bring himself to care. He’s already shared his sleeping place with his family before. This is no different. 

“He’s a nice warming pillow, Levi,” Hanji mumbles at Eren’s side. “Cuddly.” 

Levi breathes quietly, thumb rubbing over Eren’s. “I know.” 

Wrapping his arm around Levi, Eren presses a kiss into his hair. “You can come closer if you want, Hanji.” 

“Don’t want to disturb you two,” she replies, the words coming out in a sluggish sigh which tells of her dozing off. “Maybe later.” 

Levi kisses his chest, and Eren’s heart swells so much it hurts. He presses Levi tighter into their soap-scented embrace, nuzzling deep into the top of his head. “Whenever you want.” 

Enveloped by fondness, Eren closes his eyes. Levi in his arms. Hanji at their side. 

“Good night,” he says to the both of them. 

A moment later, he’s asleep. 


	20. Balance

Levi awakes with a sharp intake of breath to something strange in the dark. 

Too many people. Intruders.

Knife snapping open in his hand, he banishes the nebulous drowsiness from his head and stretches his senses into consciousness. Listening, smelling, squinting his eyes. His left hand feels for Eren beside him—warm, breathing, asleep. Home. 

“Rabbit hole,” comes a familiar voice. “Levi, you go in there. You’re small enough.”

Levi sighs and closes his knife. “Fucking Hanji,” he says under his breath. A moment later, he stifles a snort.

Whereas Eren and Levi share Levi’s side of the bed, Hanji takes up the entire rest. She also somehow managed to make a turn so her face is at the foot. One arm dangles over the side of the mattress. One leg is sprawled all across Eren. Her toes poke Levi’s side. The entire blanket is clutched in her grip. The sole reason Levi isn’t freezing in the nippy winter morning is Eren snuggled up at his side, like a protective shield against the frost. 

“You tied your shoes the wrong way,” Hanji mumbles into the linens. “Now you have to do it again.”

Smiling at the gibberish, Levi slips out of Eren’s loose embrace to yield to the urgency coursing through his nerves. He’s got to piss. 

As if not wanting to relinquish the lost contact, Eren’s fingers follow Levi, reaching out for his hand as a mild frown creases his brow. Though military training and a life in constant danger ought to have anyone alert within a heartbeat when something disrupts their dreams, this trait somehow missed Eren. He can be ready within two minutes, Levi has witnessed it happen a couple times. Yet, usually, Eren wakes as he does now, idle and sluggish, blinking and stretching like a lazy cat and wordlessly inviting Levi to lie back down and slumber on together just a bit longer.

“Levi?” He rubs his eyes. “How late is it?”

“Early,” Levi murmurs, squeezing Eren’s hand before he brushes some wild strands out of Eren’s face and kisses his brow. “Half past four, maybe five. Go back to sleep. You need the rest.”

“Mm, ‘kay,” he replies into the pillow and turns, hugging Hanji’s legs.

Taking in the sight with a soft sort of heat rising in his chest, Levi smiles. He rearranges the blanket around Hanji to drape it over Eren too, and tiptoes out of the room, casting one lingering glance at the two of them as he closes the door, leaving it a bit ajar. Then he tends to his morning routine. 

The floor is chilly beneath his bare feet when he pads out of the bathroom, ready for the day. He lights the fire in the hearth so Hanji won’t be cold whenever she wakes up. The flames flare high, warming his face and painting the room in glowing colours. Levi throws the match into the fire and after assuring himself the wood burns properly, he rises. Time for his morning brew. 

Heading towards the kitchen, he rounds the creaking sections of the timber boarding on soft feet and enkindles the side wood burning tank for their small cast iron stove as well. The street lanterns from outside cast a dim grey into the flat, so leaving all lamps unlit, he delves into the tea preparations in the near blackness of his kitchen. 

Though he’s always been an early riser and a chronic insomniac, Levi has never much been a morning person, and yet he’s always appreciated the fragile tranquility of this hour. The affinity to this illusory peace could remain from his thug days which carried over to his new life, yet he also appreciates it for what it is. Like the sombreness casts everything into an unworldly silence that solemnly invites him to make as little noise as possible before the day’s hustle and bustle will cut through the repose. 

Running his fingertips over the tin cans, Levi considers today’s choice. He halts on the label declaring roasted tea steams, and smiles, already tasting the rich nutty flavour. 

As he waits for the water to boil, Levi watches the town outside. Norman’s chimney already sends thick clouds of smoke up towards the clear starry sky. A duo of unfamiliar Military Police officers patrol the street in stalling wiggly lines, supporting each other’s swaying weight. A shadow shifts on a rooftop when they pass the café, abandoning a hideout to reveal familiar movements under a drawn-up hood to shield attention-drawing hair. 

Levi smirks to himself. Of course, Tom would have a vigilant eye on the café. Most likely Daegel or Niv have taken it upon themselves to break the rules to protect Eren from Claudio’s grasp and are nearby as well. 

Red’s figure retreats into the engulfing night to follow the pair on the cobblestones as they stagger on, leaving the street quiet and empty.

The kettle’s wail rips through the hush, and Levi abandons the scenery to retrieve the pot, counting down the seconds to pour himself the tea. He carries it to the dining table, relishing the toasty rich flavour flattering his palate, easing his mind awake.

Taking another sip, his gaze is drawn to the fire-lit arrangement of three armchairs in the living room. It still feels like a change rather than a familiar view, and yet, it makes Levi’s chest tingle. The sensations at the sight of world-crushing green-blue corduroy in place of the expected rich red colour flood back in, overcast by the memory of big nervous eyes observing him, waiting for a reaction. As if Eren thought Levi wouldn’t like it, when the mismatching new arrangement in front of the hearth feels so fundamentally right. Levi’s heart somersaults against his throat whenever his eyes graze it. 

It’s like this with everything Eren brought into this flat since he moved in. The napkin pinned against the pantry door. The long wavy hairs found in all kinds of places during floor sweeping. The slightly disarranged dining table so Levi sees more of the town as he sits in his rickety chair. Warm lulling smiles in the middle of the night.

Having Eren interfere and meddle with Levi’s stoic predictability, to push against his controlled rut, should be unsettling. Instead, it’s exciting and frighteningly charming not knowing what to expect next within these four walls whilst still having confidence in the prospect it will be good. 

Unbalance me, he thinks, smiling into his tea.

He’s in the middle of his second infusion when sounds come from the bedroom, and he rises to prepare a third brew for Eren. 

“There’s a cover hog in our bed,” Eren mumbles under a yawn as he steps up behind Levi to slot his warm chest against Levi’s back with a quiet sigh and a scratchy kiss against Levi’s temple.

Gentle slumberous heat presses against his spine and wraps around him with strong arms sneaking around his waist. Basking in it, Levi hums. “Figures, really.”

“Mm. Not surprised either.” Eren’s chuckle puffs against his scalp. “Hojicha,” he says as Levi pours steaming water into the tea pot and the roasted tea steams swirl up to the surface. “Nice.”

Enveloped by Eren’s sleep-intensified scent as his long fingers draw lazy patterns on his stomach, Levi closes his eyes with a hum, and time stops for a moment, losing its meaning. 

“You smell of soap,” Eren breathes into his hair. 

Levi blinks his eyes open to pour Eren his tea. “I do. Been awake for an hour.” 

“She disturbed you,” Eren says into the quiet, not asking, but nonetheless prodding. 

“Don’t know.”

“Hope it was all right. I couldn’t let either of you sleep in a chair.” 

Eren’s words are a questioning pleasant rumble against his spine. Setting the empty tea pot aside, Levi hums and stretches up with a tilt of his head to kiss Eren’s stubbled chin. “Thank you.” 

When he joined Hanji at the hearth, Levi didn’t much think of another option. It’s how they’ve always done it; Hanji conking out in front of his fireplace, and Levi accompanying her because it was better than leaving her on her own. Even more so after the bed arrived and symbolised lost opportunities, empty spaces at Levi’s side, and waking up to ghosts of Eren embracing him in the twilight. 

Levi thought Eren was about to join them when he followed Levi into the living room the night before, not to suggest they should all share one bed. After the strains of the evening, it was bliss to curl around Eren before going to sleep. Hanji must have felt so too. 

“It will give her some rest,” Levi says. “She definitely needs it. Doubt she had much of it this week.” 

Knowing Hanji, she worked through most of the nights to find ways to outmanoeuvre Claudio. If she indulged in any sleep at all, she did so at her desk. 

“That’s what I thought.” Eren smiles. “Good.”

They don’t talk for the next thirty minutes, falling into their wordless morning ritual of tea-sipping silence at the dining table. Meanwhile, the breaking dawn adds colours to the grey-tinged town, and the first windows come alight, their reflexion adding golden spots to Eren’s eyes. 

After his first cup, Eren goes to the bathroom while Levi rises to fetch the Saturday paper from downstairs. To his relief, it’s devoid of any gossip on Eren, Hanji, or himself, and discarding it next to his empty tea cup, Levi brews Eren his medicine. He lets the mint steep in the ginger water as he cuts some bread, and roasts the slices over the fire. By the time Eren returns to the kitchen, dressed in daywear, the air smells of the infusion’s invigorating freshness and the grilled wheat bread Levi is spreading with butter and honey. 

“Weekend breakfast,” Eren says with a smile lighting up his face as he ties his damp strands up into a half ponytail. “Feels like forever since the last one.”

Levi hums. So it does.

Meeting back at the table, they crunch toast whilst watching the domestic chimneys outside steam into the advancing dawn. 

“How long does she usually sleep after shower nights?” Eren asks, halfway through his first piece of bread. 

“Differs,” Levi replies. “Wouldn’t expect her up for a while this time. I used to open the café and let her join me whenever she was ready.”

Eren nods before he says, “I want to help today.”

Levi regards him—green eyes persistent and clear, sorrowful lines around his mouth gone, complexion healthy in the lamplight Levi lit for breakfast—and nods. There’s no stopping him anyway. “All right.” 

Dimples press into Eren’s cheeks. Taking another bite of buttery-sweet crisp toast, Levi smiles back.

“I’ll slip out to run some errands though,” Eren says after a moment. His tongue flicks out to lick some sticky crumbs off his lips. “Thought maybe when Diane’s here, so you can have some privacy to discuss the terms.”

“We don’t know for sure if it will work out yet,” Levi says again, gaze wandering to the remaining crumbs and honey on Eren’s shiny lips. 

They quirk up as Eren chuckles. “It will.” 

The calm certainty in his movements as he continues to eat and consecrate the tabletop with tiny bits of toast makes Levi’s nape tingle. Even more so when Eren frowns at the mess and starts to pick the scattered grains up with the pad of his index finger before lifting it to his mouth to suck. 

“Mm,” Levi says, letting the hunger coil deep in his guts until it burns all over. His fingers long to touch, and he fastens them around his cup filled with the last infusion of roasted tea stems. 

Engrossed in his crumb purge on the tabletop, Eren doesn’t seem to notice. Damp strands fall into his face, and Levi tears his gaze away to peer at the brightening sky on the other side of the window. 

He looks up at a nudge against his shin. Eren’s mild frown is veiled by the steam rising from his tea cup as he lifts it to his mouth. “Thank you again for letting me be there yesterday.” His frown twitches into a minute scowl. “I don’t know how I thought it would be, but it was somehow worse and better at the same time.”

Thrown back to Hanji screaming in the tub, Levi prods his big toe against Eren’s foot in unspoken understanding.

“She was so dirty…” Green eyes fix on Levi with fierce determination. “I’ve seen filthy in the waste dump, but never like this. I don’t want you to deal with this on your own anymore. I will check on her at HQ, and I don’t know what I did that made her trust me, but if it helps her to cling on to me like she did, that’s fine with me. Maybe I can even get her to do sponge baths or something. It’s worth a try.”

Searching Eren’s face, Levi wonders whether if this man will ever stop astonishing him. He didn’t expect Eren to back out of his promise or his resolve to help with Hanji. Levi never doubted the alleviation it would bring to have someone to assist with the baths either. However, never did he think Hanji would leap into Eren’s arms. Nor did he think it would calm her down to have Eren there—or whatever it was that caused the panic to cool off so much faster than usual. 

It’s not Eren’s fiery dedication which surprises him. Levi has seen its bright shine often enough ever since they met. It’s rather the effortless ease with which Eren accepts the situation, already planning how to make it better in the future. He’s weaving himself into a ritual Levi has kept tight to himself for almost a decade. Eren never was stupid, regardless of some respective notes in his Trainee records. 

He understands the complexity of having a friend with a fear of hygiene so deep, layers of grime cake her skin and clothes. Without needing any explanation, Eren sees all the little things that could make it more bearable, not solely for Levi, but for Hanji as well. He seems to sense shifts in the atmosphere and has a certain intuition about where they come from, although this was his first time of witnessing the situation. Furthermore, he doesn’t waste any time on asking unnecessary questions, coming right to the point, addressing the core issues with a simple “let me do this.” 

Hanji once asked Levi if Eren is real. Sometimes Levi wonders too. Even with Eren sitting right across from him, rubbing his leg against Levi’s, blinding Levi with his magnanimous heart. 

“Okay,” he says, for lack of further words. 

Eren’s eyes soften around the edges as the tension in his jaw relaxes. 

“About what she said about me not letting her drown,” he says after a while, sounding ponderous. “I was thinking…do you think it would help her to talk about it with me?”

Levi shrugs as he finishes his first piece of toast.

_ Don’t let me into the water, _ Hanji said last night.  _ It will kill me. It’s dragging me down. _

In all the years Levi showered her, he can’t remember her ever revealing this much. She did shriek about water killing her during the first times, but never like this. She never recovered quickly after the shower like this either. Let alone throw herself into Levi’s arms as she did in the living room. Hanji usually avoids any physical contact whatsoever…she hardly ever hugs him. Never out of jubilance as yesterday.

“I don’t know,” he replies, rubbing bread crumbs off his fingers. “Perhaps. I asked her about it, but she wouldn’t say anything other than I should fuck off.”

“She talks to me about Moblit.” The corners of Eren’s crumb-dusted mouth twitch faintly when Levi blinks at him in surprise, and Eren lifts a shoulder in a slow shrug. “Not much, but he’s come up once or twice. Maybe she will talk about this too.”

A distinct fluttering sensation expands in Levi’s chest, bottling for a moment before it bursts. The only times Hanji brought up Moblit in Levi’s presence was right after his death, and then about a year ago, but that’s it. Levi doesn’t mind. Their relationship—deep, trusting, and complex as it is—isn’t one of cordial condolence. It never has been. Levi doesn’t know how to comfort her in her grief aside from letting her set the rules and otherwise treat her as he always has. He can’t embrace her, can’t tell her it will be all right. 

Eren, however. Eren is different. Plus Hanji is different in his presence as well. Still the same, yet less prickly around the edges and not as reluctant to show her emotions. It’s as if Eren gets under her skin too, yet instead of having the rebalancing effect he has on Levi, he makes Hanji a more thorough version of herself. The entire evening demonstrated that. It was as if Eren slipped beneath her usual shield. This, Levi can relate to. Eren has that effect on people in general. 

Maybe it’s his eyes, Levi thinks, holding that expressive green gaze directed at him over honeyed toast and ginger mint infusion. His eyes, his smile, and that persistently reckless rebellion against walls everyone else tends to back away from. If anyone can get information out of Hanji on what makes her this fucking scared of drowning in the shower when even the heaviest rain doesn’t bother her at all, it’s Eren. 

“It’s worth a try,” Levi says. 

Eren smiles, and Levi’s heart gives a resonating thump so high in his throat he has to swallow the accompanying yearning before it scorches him from the inside out.

Despite some stolen chaste kisses after breakfast, it still sends searing need for closeness through his veins when they head down to the café after leaving Hanji a glass of water with some painkillers on Eren’s nightstand. It eats at Levi’s nerve endings while he stokes the fire in the Sparrow’s large pot-bellied wood stove. Gnaws on his guts while placing the big water pots onto the flame. Increases as he watches Eren refill the oil lamps while he polishes the brass worktop, and burns on his arms when Eren joins him behind the counter. 

His smile is too alluring. His tied up hair escaping its messy confinement. His proximity too compelling. And it’s too much. 

“Fuck it,” Levi tosses the tea towel aside, and, throwing all caution about public displays of affection to the wind, crushes into Eren’s personal space to devour his lips. 

Eren squeaks into his mouth, hands shooting up into Levi’s hair, and kissing back with such enthusiastic ardour it sets Levi ablaze. Allowing the sweet ache to pool deep at the base of his spine, he twists his fingers in Eren’s shirt, letting his nails bite into the skin underneath before he pulls himself back on a leash. Slowing the kiss down, he pours out his gratitude and adoration into tender licks and slowly rubbing thumbs that have Eren shuddering in his grip. 

Levi pulls back with a final nip on Eren’s bottom lip, holding lust-blackened eyes that blink at him in clouded surprise as Eren’s tongue darts out to lick Levi’s saliva off his lips. _ What was that for? _

Shrugging, Levi reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Eren’s ear, thumb lingering to brush over the cheekbone.  _ Nothing. _

“Well,” Eren says, eyes sparkling as he cards gentle fingers through Levi’s hair in return. Plucking at one of the wisps with a grin. “Good we have the counter to hide behind if this continues.”

Levi snorts, stretches up to peck the curled up corner of Eren’s mouth with a mumbled, “We’ll see, brat,” and fetches his apron. “Assam for starters?” 

“Sounds good,” Eren rasps. He clears his throat before Levi hears a rustle of clothes, followed by the metallic rattle of a caddie being opened. 

Smirking to himself, Levi checks his hair in the reflexion of a spoon. It’s a disaster. Stomach swooping, he flattens the mess out, readjusts his trousers as well, and opens the Sparrow to Frey beaming at them through the glass-paned door. 

He enters with rosy cheeks—both from the cold and witnessing their kiss, Levi assumes—carrying his consignment and declaring his enthusiasm about finding Eren up on his feet and helping in the café.

“We were worried about you,” he says with a toothy smile as he takes over the empty trays from the day before, plus Evelyn’s empty pot. “I’m glad you look all right though. Mum and Dad will be so happy to hear it.”

“The soup helped a lot,” Eren says. “The pie too.”

Frey’s eyes gleam as he nods. “Mum makes the best mutton potato pie in town. Dad always says she could charm the entire world with it.”

Levi hums his agreement as warmth spreads into his arms. So Evelyn spoiled them with her signature dish at the slightest mention of Eren being ill. 

“I believe that,” Eren replies with a brush of knuckles against Levi’s. “It was excellent. Please tell her that, will you?”

“Of course.” Cheeks glowing, Frey nods with such enthusiasm, his cap bobs on his head. 

Transferring the delivered pastries to the cake display, Levi smiles at the first weekend special in the middle of the second tray. 

Eren notices it too and beams at the caramelised meringue surface. “Lemon pies! That was quick.”

“Ah, you know Dad,” Frey says. “He’ll have another two for you tomorrow as well. And oh! before I forget.” Face reddening, he produces a cloth-wrapped bundle from the inside of his pockets, about the size of two small fists, and hands it over to Eren.  

“I am supposed to give you this,” Frey stammers, his blush deepening. “Mum went to Nanna Pearl last night. To check on her, you know, see if she needed anything? Anyway. Barb finished your apron and wanted you to have it right away…but…” his stumbling voice trails off in obvious mortification. He doesn’t have to explain, since Eren already unfolded the parcel and laughs. 

Levi lifts an eyebrow. 

The apron is almost like he ordered it. Black, plain, and practical, like Levi’s own for the café. The single gaping difference is the golden embroidered lettering on the chest piece, blaring ‘Humanity’s Strongest’s Hope.’

“I understand if you want to return it.” Frey is sweating now, his speech is slurred and hasty as if he were pressing out words. “But I had to at least bring it over and—please don’t be mad at me. I told her it’s stupid, but Dad laughed and said it was fitting when he saw it, so Mum told me to not be a ninny and get it done.”

Eren beams at Levi, holding out his new work garment. “Levi, look at this.”

“I am,” Levi replies, biting back a snort that is somewhat torn between annoyance, agony, and amusement. Oh, Hanji will be out of her mind once she sees this. 

“Your mother responsible for that catchy phrase?” he asks Frey on a hunch. 

Frey’s shoulders draw up as he ducks his head. “I think. Or Nanna Pearl? But…” He looks between Levi and Eren like a trapped animal. “You are not mad?”

Staring at the offending stitching, Levi can already feel the strain of today’s imminent gossip scratching on his back. A second later he remembers the pair of soldiers staggering through the streets this early morning, followed by Red’s silent shadow on the rooftops. Claudio’s men are all across town this weekend, and Levi’s smirk bursts out, gaining the upper hand. 

“Mad?” Eren says, already slipping into it. “I love it!” 

Holding out his arms, he presents himself to Levi. No surprise Eren adores it, and of course, he looks striking in the horrendous thing. Warm and damned kissable too with that smile illuminating his entire being. Dimples bigger than the entire town.

Upholding his unimpressed facade, Levi nods. “Not bad.”

Eren chuckles and turns to Frey who looks as though the war has been won for the second time. “Please pass on my thanks, Frey.” 

Frey sighs and nods. “I’m so glad. I thought you would perhaps yell or make me return it…and then Mum…she was so excited.”

Levi can imagine. “She’s coming over later, I reckon?” 

“I think so,” Frey replies, the flush creeping back to his face. “She said something about wanting to see Eren in his new apron. And one of her tea caddies is empty too.”

“Mm.” Just as Levi thought. Aside from her regular daily visits even at quiet times, Evelyn would not pass up the opportunity to marvel at her handy work with her own eyes. 

“Then I can thank her myself,” Eren says. He smiles at Frey. “Do you know if Barb and Pearl like tea?”

“They drink coffee,” Levi replies in Frey’s stead when he shrugs. “I already paid them for that thing though,” he adds. Well, apart from the stitching he didn’t request.

Eren frowns. “Oh. Okay.”

Taking in the disappointed flicker in Eren’s eyes, Levi smiles and turns to Frey. “Which tea?”

Still gawping at Eren who runs his hands over the letters on his chest with a doting expression, Frey realises Levi is talking to him. “Huh?” 

“You said Evelyn’s tea is empty. The Gyokuro or the Hojicha?”

“Oh, the latter, I think?” Frey looks at the ceiling as if searching for a clue. “She’s been drinking it a lot lately with the weather being so cold. Says it’s good for her head and easy on her stomach.”

“Hojicha then,” Levi says, stepping into the staff department to fetch the rectangular yellow-lacquered tin can. 

“Tea, Frey?” Eren’s question mingles with some rustling sounds from the counter. 

“Can’t. Sadly.” He sighs, though his voice remains good-natured. “Got other deliveries to make. But ta!”

Levi rejoins them, lifting the caddie. “Thank your father for the new pies. And I’ll wrap this up.” He smiles as he places it onto the brass—Eren’s already laid out wax paper and sealing tools.

“Splendid.” Laden with the empty, cleaned trays from the previous day, Frey beams at Eren who opens the door for him. “See you guys tomorrow.”

Standing in the crisp morning air without seeming to be bothered by it at all, Eren waves. “Looking forward to it.” 

He closes the door with a tinkle of the bell, turns to Levi, peers down at his new apron, and grins. “Hanji will love this, won’t she?” 

Levi snorts. “Want to share a piece of lemon pie?”

“I’ll fetch the forks.”

 

*

 

The pie, how could it be different, is as wonderful as it was on Monday. Sticky, sugary sour, and rich, it casts a smile on Eren’s face that nearly outshines the one he displays with a cinnamon roll stuffed between his teeth. It makes him chuckle with bright delight too, and the kisses he manages to tease from Levi in the staff department as they wash their dishes taste like winter melting into spring under gentle sweet sunshine warming the earth.

The tinkle of the door bell has Levi pulling back, and he sighs at his own lack of restraint. Eren’s mouth is too distracting. 

“No more,” he declares to Eren as Erika’s laugh sounds from the counter. “Not until closing time.” 

Eren’s knowing chuckle calls the empty threat. “We’ll see,” he says, putting a heap of soapy bubbles onto Levi’s nose. 

Clicking his tongue as he wipes the popping bubbles from his face, Levi leaves him to the dishes and joins Erika and Tom in the café. He resists the urge to check on his hair when they stop their conversation to leer. He’s certain Eren messed it up somehow. Besides, he can feel a strand poking out at the back of his head. His cheeks must be flushed too. 

“Coffee?” he asks, demanding his hands rest loosely on the counter.  

“Interrupting anything?” Erika asks with sparkling eyes before raising her voice. “Hello, Eren.” 

“Hello, Erika,” he answers from the back.

She winks as she places her scribe’s bag on one of the bar stools. “See you’re having a great morning, Levi. Good for you.”

Levi looks right back. 

“How’s the Commander?” Tom asks into Levi’s pointed silence, jerking his chin at the coffee. “Shower went well?” 

Fetching two cups and the carafe, Levi shrugs. “Sleeping off her hangover. Otherwise, she’s all right.”

“Good to hear.” Tom nods as Eren’s footsteps approach. He opens his mouth, but closes it again in favour of an arch smirk. His light green gaze snaps to Levi’s in an amused, _really, now?_  and Levi reigns in a roll of his eyes. 

Erika, on the other hand, bursts into full-throated laughter. “Oh, Eren! This is amazing. Where did you get that apron?”

Levi senses Eren’s beam at his side before he speaks. “Um…Levi ordered it.”

As Erika bursts into new laughter, Tom lifts an eyebrow at Levi, who responds with a sigh. “Only the apron. The stitching was a sneak attack from the local fan club.” He should have seen it coming, perhaps. He didn’t tell Barb the apron was for Eren, but gossip’s been spreading like the clap. 

“I like it,” Eren says, frowning at the letters on his chest and tracing them with his fingers in a way that sends new heat into Levi’s guts. 

Fighting against the distinct flutter ready to explode in his chest, Levi swallows. If Tom and Erika weren’t here, he’d drag Eren right back into the staff department to taste that adoring look on his face. 

He tears his absorption away from the forming dimple in Eren’s cheek and refocuses on Erika and Tom’s coffee. This will be an interesting workday. 

While Tom shoots Levi a knowing look, Erika wipes tears of laughter out of her eyes. “Of course you do, Eren,” she says. “Oh, this is amazing. Perfect fodder to torture Claudio’s spies with, and make the locals happy. Has our fearless leader seen it yet?”

“No,” Levi says, setting the two steaming cups on the counter. “It’s brand new.”

“Wonderful.” Erika snickers as she unwraps her shawl. Her ash blonde hair tangles in her face, and she blows it aside. “Then I’ll be here to watch her reaction when she does. Speaking of. I need an endless stream of coffee, a bagel, one of those nut thingies I had on Monday if you’ve still got them on the menu, and please, just spoil me with whatever you have. I need it. Earned it too.”

She looks like it, Levi muses as he nods. Despite her exuberance, the week’s strain shows on her tired face and in a shift of energy that deepens the lines on her brow. She must have worked as much as Hanji since Sunday.  

“Coming right up.” Levi motions at the pastries in the display when Eren fetches a plate and a cake lifter. 

“You’re a saviour,” Erika says, taking her cup and bag. “I’ll claim one of your tables until afternoon if you don’t mind.” Mischief lights up her face, and Levi narrows his eyes. He knows what’s coming. “Maybe one with a good view on the snogging?”

Staring at a point on the wall to his right as he takes a sip of coffee, Tom seems to have a hard time containing his amusement, whereas Eren blushes all the way up to his hairline. 

“Sweet.” Erika tilts her head with a sigh before she meets Levi’s gaze. “You caught yourself a good one there, Levi. I’m almost envious. Thanks,” she says as Eren places her order onto the tray. She takes it, managing to add it to the pile in her hands before she moves to one of the seats in the back. 

She’s out of earshot when Eren leans closer, mumbling into Levi’s ear, “She isn’t jealous, is she?” 

His fingers twiddle with the cake lifter, and his green eyes are so full of concern something in Levi’s chest rearranges and softens. It sometimes strikes him as odd a man who destroyed entire city cores and raged against an enemy since he was ten can ask questions like this. It makes his heart kick against his ribs. 

Sensing Tom’s frown more than he can see it, Levi brushes his knuckles across Eren’s hip, letting his fingers linger for a moment in an unspoken reassurance not to worry. Eren relaxes in an instant, and Levi smiles, reaching for a tea pot from beneath the countertop to brew them a buttery Oolong. 

Tom turns to Eren. “Feeling better, I see?” He has his fingers clasped around his cup from above, twisting it back and forth before taking it by the handle.

Eren smiles and puts the cake lifter back to its rightful place. “I do, yes.”

“Good.” Tom lifts his coffee and drinks it in uncharacteristic speed. “Better get back on command duty,” he says. “Glad to hear the Commander is fine. Tell her we have everything under control. Could use a to-go flask if you’ve got one?”

Closing the caddie with Oolong, Levi nods. “All right. Make it two?” The guards on night watch may be grateful for some caffeine unless they’re heading straight for a nap.

“Mm.”

Tom leaves with a wave at Erika who already is halfway through her bagel, striding down the cobbled street, thermoses under his arm. Levi frowns. “Something’s up.” 

“Something bad?” Eren asks, following his gaze. 

Levi hums and taps his fingers on the counter before clearing Tom’s space.  _ Don’t know yet. _

He doesn’t have much time to think about it. With the café open, the first civilian customers stream into the Sparrow, and between pouring coffee, serving cake, and enduring comments about Eren’s apron, Levi soon yearns for quiet lunchtime. 

“Evelyn said to come have a look,” Romilda says, carrying Clive in a sling on her back, and one basket in each hand. They’re filled with bread and vegetables, the latter most likely from the weekend market. She beams at Eren with engrossed eyes, and releases a sigh. “Oh, how delightful. Does that mean we can congratulate you now?”

“No,” Levi says, taking in her disappointed reaction for the second time this week. She looks even more crestfallen today. “No engagement.”

“Not yet,” Eren adds, rubbing his neck. “Can I offer you some tea or dessert?”

The question alongside Eren’s sheepish expression seems to cast all of Romilda’s sadness away. “Thank you,” she replies with a smile. “That’s so kind. I need some coffee beans, but I guess a cup of tea won’t hurt? What can you recommend?”

Nodding, Levi fetches her favourite pre-ground beans while Eren suggests a herbal infusion. 

“This has been going on all week, hasn’t it?” Eren says to Levi when she’s gone. A disgruntled frown adorns his brow, standing in contrast with the ludicrous apron. “The wedding talk, I mean?”

Levi shrugs. “It’s all right.” They can’t be stopped either way, and Eren is good with distracting them so far. Mouth twitching in a small smile, Levi lifts the tea pot with Oolong. “Refill?”

As opposed to Romilda and her easy distraction, Ilaida is in a league of her own. She storms in an hour after opening time, and stops dead in her tracks as she spots Eren. Her eyes widen, and Levi braces himself for an outburst.

“Oh by the Walls, it’s wonderful!” she enthuses. “And there I thought you were sick, Eren. I see you’re doing better. I take it the chicken stock helped?” She takes a step forward, hand stretching towards the apron. “May I touch it?”

Forestalling Eren’s reply, Levi takes him by the arm. “I think Kornelius needs more coffee, Eren,” he says, grinding his jaw at the irritating girl standing before him with a gooey-eyed beam. 

“Oh. Of course,” Eren says, frowning at Levi’s hard stare before he moves, while Ilaida visibly deflates as she watches him go. 

“It looks beautiful, Captain Levi,” she gushes. “The colour brings out his eyes. Eren must be so thrilled about it. Humanity’s Strongest’s Hope.” A giggle trembles through her as she muffles it behind a hand. “So funny!”

Eren will be thrilled when people stop making silly comments about his new apron, Levi thinks, forcing a tooth-baring smile that has Ilaida blanch a little. Maybe it will teach her a lesson. He never was the jealous type—live and let live, really—yet something in the way she gawps at Eren rubs Levi the wrong way. It feels like nails scraping on his back.

“What can we do for you today?” he asks.

She collects herself, rummaging around in the bag slung over her shoulder. “Just returning the thermos. I have to tell Mum and Dad to come and see for themselves,” she says as her gaze trails off to Eren again. “Auntie Marion too. I bet their eyes will pop out.”

“Mm,” Levi replies, biting back he would be happy to help with that. It would make things easier if people weren’t able to goggle any more. Instead, he opens the till, hands Ilaida the deposit, and mentions her father must be waiting for her. 

Scarlet flushes her cheeks as she jerks with a self-reproaching “oh!” 

Stuffing the money into her small pouch, she excuses herself with one last longing gaze at Eren who is refilling Erika’s coffee in the back, not seeming to notice the entire café is riveted on him. 

Levi sighs. One week, he tells himself as Eren shuffles back to the counter with a shake of the carafe that tells Levi they need a new batch. One week, or two perhaps, and the newness of it all will be dealt with and gone. 

“Maybe I should send Jean over to draw this?” Una says with a mild smile, gesturing at the embroidery on Eren’s chest. 

“He’ll be here later,” Eren says. 

“Oh, that’s good, then.” A silver-streaked strand escapes the dark knot on her head, and Una brushes it out of her gleaming eyes. “This sketch would look nice in the Commander’s office too.” 

Levi huffs. Hanji would love it. 

Una’s sharp gaze meets his as she picks up her fork. “And how are you doing, Levi? Busy week?”

“One way of putting it.”

“Hmpf.” She nods, mouth pinching around a bite of chocolate cake before she asks, “Any trouble with the MPs in here?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“They confiscated maps. They say it’s just formalities, but I suspect they want to compare them with their copies in hopes of catching us for withholding information.” She shakes her head and spears another piece of cake. 

Levi nods. “Hanji mentioned something like that.” With Claudio’s bias, it wouldn’t be surprising to find out the idiot’s asking for maps drawn by Eren or Armin in particular. He wouldn’t only check them for cartography details but for protocol correctness as well. Ridiculous. Levi doesn’t have to look at either of their maps to know they were drawn with absolute diligence. Knowing Eren and Armin, they even included precise dates and personal observations. 

“Not that we’d be stupid enough to do that, but well,” Una says with a shrug. “If it wasn’t such a pain to have them breathing down my neck all day long, it would actually be amusing to see them struggle searching for a lapse in some sort they could use against us.” 

“Getting desperate,” Levi says, tapping a finger against his tea cup. 

Una grins. “With our Commander making their stay here hell? You bet.” 

Levi snorts. 

“So, Eren,” Una says with a smile. “Refresh my memory, please. What is it like to be young and in love?” She winks and points her fork at the apron. “Public mania aside, of course.”

“It’s okay,” Eren says, meeting Levi’s gaze for a heartbeat before smiling at the counter. “I’m good.” 

“Good. You look better too.”

Eren blushes and clears his throat. “My trainees giving you any trouble yesterday?”

Smirking at the deflexion, Levi brushes a hand over Eren’s back and takes the carafe with regular strong brew to start a coffee refill round through the Sparrow. 

“Need anything?” he asks Erika as he fills up her cup. 

“Nope.” She grins up at him. A small pile of scrawled notes rests on the table, looking huge and sketchy in comparison to the neatly drawn letters on the official document she’s scribing. Levi’s eyes catch his name right next to Eren’s and the words ‘living arrangement.’ 

“Fucking nifty, isn’t it?” Erika says. “What does it feel like to know you’re an ‘official guardian’ now?”

He shrugs. “Nothing new.”

Her eyes light up as they narrow with mirth and she takes a sharp breath. “Cold. So cold. Now get rid of that besotted smirk, and I’ll be real scared.” She winks at Levi’s snort. “He does you good.”

“Mm. Going well?” He nods at the paper. 

Granting him the change of topic, Erika shrugs and opens the ink jar to refill her pen. “More or less. One and a half-finished, seventeen more to go. And that’s only this week’s worth. Will be fun with the next load coming up.” She grimaces. “My hand’s been cramping since Tuesday, but at least there’s something good coming out of the mess.”

Levi hums. 

“How’s he holding up?” Erika asks with a glance at Eren, screwing the ink jar closed again.

“Good, considering,” Levi says. 

She nods. “He looks better than two days ago. I’m glad. You know you can count on me if you two need any kind of help, don’t you?” Her blue eyes find Levi with earnest honesty, and he nods. 

“Thank you.”

“Rumour has it you pissed off our high and mighty Queen yesterday?”

Smirking, Levi takes her empty plate from the table to make Erika more space. “She wasn’t too happy with me, no,” he replies, recalling Historia’s indignant figure rushing out of the café. 

“Had it coming, I think. She should know better by now than trying to use Eren as a bargaining chip or you to gain the people’s approval.” Erika smiles before her gaze focuses on the street outside and turns into a frown. “I just wish these idiots were gone.”

The idiots’ are the same pair of Military Police soldiers Levi cosseted with over-generous coffee supplies on Monday. They come to a halt in front of the café, and once more seem to bicker about who is to enter first. Half a minute later, they walk on, darting curious gazes through the window front. 

Shaking her head, Erika snorts. “Such pussies. Do they always need multiple attempts to come in?”

“Seems they do now.” Levi smirks. “They haven’t been in here since Monday.”

“You lucky bastard.” Her eyes sparkle. “Tom wagers they’ll be gone by Tuesday and two days early. With our Commander driving the numbskull bonkers all week and Eren’s fan club literally fighting over how to contribute, I put my bet on Monday. They’re persistent fuckers, though, so chances are low for me, I reckon.”

“The sooner the better,” Levi says and after exchanging another nod with Erika, he returns to the counter where Una is back to commenting on Eren’s apron. 

One week, Levi repeats in his head. At least, the soldiers spread the word fast. 

“This is so cool, Captain Levi,” Rita tells him when she, Mia, and Harold settle around the counter for a weekend round of coffee and tea. She grins at Eren who is placing three cups and saucers onto the worktop at Levi’s side. “I almost wish this would have been my idea.”

“You have plenty of other ideas,” Harold says. His wide smile somehow emphasises the bruise on his temple.

Eren was right about the injury, Levi thinks for the second time this week. A bit more to the left, and Harold could have lost an eye. At least it appears to be healing well. The dark edges are blurring and the shiner looks more colourful than black too. It must be uncomfortable when he speaks, yet Harold doesn’t appear to pay it any attention.

“Do you like the apron too, Captain Levi?” Mia turns such an outcalling grin at Levi his instincts push to harden his stare and counter. 

“How’s the extra learning going?” he asks.

While Mia smiles, Rita sighs and sags on the barstool. “You heard about that, didn’t you?” She peers up at Eren and her face lights up with cheek. “I still say it was worth it.”

Harold and Mia nod. 

“You look better today, Instructor Eren, Sir,” Mia says. 

“Ian from first year said you weren’t well on Thursday,” Harold explains with a new firmness in his concerned voice that wasn’t there a month ago. He appears more mature and grounded, Levi muses. Calmer and more self-assured too. Eren must be glad about it. “We were worried when you weren’t in class yesterday, but Instructor Connie told us you’re just taking a day off.”

As he pours steaming water into the pot with Rita’s Gunpowder, Eren smiles. “I did. Thank you, Harold. And yes, I do feel better.” 

“Were we too exhausting? You can tell us.”

Levi eyes Harold over laying out a triple set of plates for them. Concern stands written all across his young face, though even his worry feels more sedate than it did a month ago too. 

“No, Harold,” Eren says. “You weren’t.”

Pressing his lips together, Harold nods. “Good. He asked some questions about you. Ian, that is.”

Mild alarm rings in Levi’s head. His head snaps up. “When was that?”

“Thursday after dinner.” Harold bites on his bottom lip, though his brown eyes are firm enough for Levi’s shoulders to relax. “I think he is worried. Looked really sad.” He frowns as he turns to Eren. “He told me you already answered some of his questions, Sir, but he had more.”

Rita nods with a shrug. “Nothing too bad though. Only wanted to know if he could help with anything during the symptom phases.”

“What did you say?” Levi asks, fetching three complimentary pieces of pastry. After the coup the kids played on Claudio this week, giving them free treats is the least he can do in return.

Harold takes a nip of his coffee. “That we needed to talk to Instructor Eren first. We heard what happened to Phillip and thought it’s better to be careful.” He looks at Eren again. “Ian apologised about that to us, though. He said you talked and he changed his mind.”

Snorting, Rita rolls her eyes. “His exact words were ‘I was wrong.’” She winks at Levi as her cheeks swell with mischief. “I told him he was a fathead to believe MPs from the capital, and he should be ashamed. I think it worked.”

Adding a generous heap of clotted cream to Rita’s apple tart, Levi snorts and deals out the plates. When he hands Mia her lemon pie, she frowns at him.

“He won’t be a problem, Captain Levi. We’re keeping an eye on him too.” 

“Thank you,” Levi says.  

Eren pours Rita her Gunpowder before filling Levi’s cup as well. “I’ll talk to Ian again,” he says, emptying the tea pot into a third cup for himself. “He’s all right. Claudio’s people scared him about me and Armin, that’s all.”

“But you’ll be back by Monday, won’t you, Sir?” Rita asks. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to miss out on your latest shenanigans,” Eren retorts. 

Rita laughs and Levi rests a hand on Eren’s lower back. 

“Better bring that apron to class,” Rita says with a wink. “I bet Percy would flip.”

 

*

 

The most ecstatic response to the apron is delivered by Hanji, of course. 

Rumbling down the stairs when morning peak is about abate, she sets eyes on Eren and bursts into laughter so fierce, she draws the entire café’s attention.  

“This is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” she cackles, holding her stomach as she’s shaken through by a hiccup. She reels towards the counter where she nudges one of Levi’s Survey Corps customers off his stool. “Go sit next to your Squad Leader. Erika needs the company.”

Shooting Eren and Levi a conspiratorial grin, Ray shrugs and makes room, fishing for some coins in his pockets. “Should go back to HQ anyway. Just needed a proper refreshment.”

“Stop harassing my customers,” Levi says when the bell tinkles over Ray’s head, though it doesn’t come out as venomous as intended. Hanji may be a pain sometimes, but she knows how to divert people. 

“Whose genius idea was this?” Hanji asks, still cackling at Eren. “I need to send them flowers.”

“Evelyn, Pearl, and Barb, apparently,” Eren says, casting another tender smile at the lines written across his chest.

Hanji beams at Levi, who rolls his eyes, and pushes her coffee mug into her hands. “Choke on it.”

She cackles, yet lifts the cup with a “thanks.” 

“How are you this morning, Hanji?” Eren asks, preparing her a breakfast bagel with goat curd while she tosses her first caffeine dose down her throat.

She holds out the mug for a refill and wipes her mouth. “Splendid, Eren. Thank you. Slept fantastic, actually.”

Humming as he pours Hanji the second fix, Levi scrutinises her. Only the fluffiness of her hair lets on it’s a shower morning. Otherwise, she looks well-rested and close to bursting with zeal. 

“Good.” Refilling Eren’s tea, he casts a relieved nod at Hanji before a movement outside draws his attention to the entrance. “Imbeciles incoming,” he says a moment before the door opens and the two MPs from before stumble in, freezing in the open doorway when they spot Eren. 

Their eyes widen, trail down to the apron’s chest piece, and then to Hanji, who waves at them. 

“Good morning, Soldiers,” she says with a salute. “Would you like to join us? The coffee is extraordinarily splendid today.”

The woman stutters while her male counterpart turns sweaty again, and then they push each other back outside onto the street with wild gestures. They glance at Eren through the closed door. A moment later, they haste towards HQ. 

Hanji cackles and stretches on her barstool until her spine pops. “I think that’s my cue to leave. Tom shouldn’t deal with this alone.” She tosses back the rest of her coffee and pushes aside her emptied plate.

“I’ll have Erika bring you another thermos,” Levi says as she slips into her coat hanging on the rack. At least she finished her breakfast.

“I know you will, grumpy.” She pulls her fluffy ponytail out of her coat’s collar as she strides towards the entrance, and grins. “Thank you for the bagel, Eren.”

His chuckle mingles with the chime of the bell above Hanji’s head. “Any time.”

Stopping on her way out, Hanji holds the door open for Diane before she waves once more at Erika, and rushes through the cobbled street.

“Diane,” Levi says. 

“Hello Levi,” she says, unwrapping her scarf, not even batting an eye at Eren’s new apron. She smiles at it, yet then lifts her blue crinkling eyes to Eren’s. “You must be Eren. So nice to finally meet you.”

“Diane,” he says. “I’m glad to meet you too.”

Mirth twitches around her lips a moment before the curiosity snaps after all. She points at the golden embroidered lettering. “Is this an intentional inside joke or did some local excitement get out of hand?”

“I think by now it’s both,” Eren admits with a bright chuckle. 

As Diane joins in his amusement with a quiet smile, Levi knows with a jolt of warmth in his chest, having Diane as help will work out, even before Eren looks at him with a small approving nod. 

Diane turns to Levi. “You said you have an offer for me.”

While Eren shuffles into the staff department with Hanji’s used dishes, Levi nods. “I do. Would you sit?” Motioning at the bar stools, he holds Diane’s open gaze, waiting for her to settle before he speaks on. 

“I’m in search of an employee to relieve me of some work. A few hours a day, best at peak times, either in the mornings or afternoons. On the weekends too.”

She blinks. Shakes her head. “You offer me a job. Are you serious?”

Levi hums as he reaches for the caddie with Darjeeling. “I don’t expect you to be here every day or work the shifts I do. I know you have other obligations too. But I thought we could help each other out.”

Narrowing her blue eyes, Diane leans closer to rest her forearms on the counter. She is quiet for a moment before she asks, “Why me?”

The careful distrust in the question elicits a smile from Levi. “Do I need a reason other than needing an extra pair of hands?”

“Yes,” she replies, and then smiles too. “Or perhaps not. But I’d like one anyway.”

“Because you’re not always vexing me, don’t seem to mind my crude language, and you can tell apart good tea from piss,” Levi admits. “I’d also hate to see your mother having to drink that slurry you bought at Donna’s for longer than necessary.”

He hasn’t finished when Diane bursts out into laughter so bubbly it shakes her through. 

Taking in her watering eyes and the hand rising to her mouth to stifle the chuckles, Levi feels his lips twitch. She’s agreeing. He asks anyway. “Is that a yes?”

She nods. “Of course, it is! Thank you. I… I don’t know what to say…”

“That’s fine with me,” Levi says with a snort. “Just do good work. It will make Eren happy knowing he can drag me outside too.” He holds out his hand.

Laughing once more, Diane looks at it for a heartbeat with gleaming eyes, and accepts with a warm, dry palm and slender fingers holding on tight. “Thank you. Really. I’ll do my best.”

Levi has no doubt. “I have to thank you,” he says. “Should we start?” 


	21. Under a Blue Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start, some very big fat thank yous and hugs to two amazing who drew fan art for the last chapter! There is the lovely Flanpu who drew [this gorgeous piece](https://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/post/184555255823/i-have-been-in-absolute-love-with-eren-and-levis) including [this adorable doodle](https://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com/post/184529772510/magpie-chapter-20-is-online-therell-be-a-proper) with Eren and his new apron. And the sweet Gaki Levi who drew [an inspired doodle collection ](https://mariefbm.tumblr.com/post/184572452218/heres-some-doodles-which-were-inspired-by-the-new)for the entire chapter. Thank you so much you two! I so much love it! <3

Leaving Levi and Diane to their terms discussion, Eren steps out onto the cobbled streets, equipped with a big bag, his purse, a small wrapped parcel with coffee beans, and a list with Hanji's measurements. 

The sun stands high on the clear blue sky, and he smiles at it as he sets out for his circle around town, starting with Magda’s shop. 

Nodding at a pair of Survey Corps and local Military Police officers talking at the next corner, he enters the store and smiles at the down-home atmosphere enfolding him. It’s starting to become familiar. 

“Hullo, Eren.” Val smiles as he stops in his task to restock a wooden box. “So good to see you. I hope we didn’t forget something in the delivery?” 

“No, Val,” Eren says, closing the door behind him. “Not at all. I was hoping I could speak to Magda for a second?” 

The parsnips in Val’s hand sink to his side. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Mum’s away, I’m afraid. Getting her hair done. Should I tell her something when she’s back?” 

Eren shakes his head. “No, it’s all right. I’ll come back again. Thank you.” He is about to turn when an idea sparks in his head with a weightless swoop of his stomach. He stills. “Now that I’m here though, maybe you can help me with something.” 

Surrounded by cloth-covered heaps of root vegetables, potatoes, storage apples, and pears, Val visibly grows where he stands. “Anything, Eren.” He puts away the parsnips and dusts his hands on his work apron. “Has it something to do with Captain Levi?” 

Following him to the counter, Eren smiles. “Not entirely, no. But is there something your mum needs? I’d like to surprise her with a little thank you for her help and the good dinner she sent us. Tea or coffee are nice, but I’d like to give her something more personal.” 

While he explains, the gleam in Val’s eyes enhances, and by the time Eren is finished, his freckled cheeks are swollen with delight. “You want to give her something? Like pretty things? Flowers? She likes colours. Bright ones. Dad always brings her some violets in spring. The nice smelling kind, you know. She even has a special vase for them because she likes them so much. Still a few months until then though…” Val’s shoulders sag a little, yet rise again as his beam widens and his voice assumes a softer tone. “You could bring her cherry twigs though. Anya loves them around this time of the year. She cuts them, puts them in water, and after a couple of weeks, they’ll bloom. They look nice.”

Fighting the urge to look down at his feet, Eren shakes his head at himself. It’s still a riddle to him how he’d ever could have been jealous of Val, of all people. Sure, he’s always nice to Levi, but Val is always nice to everyone. So nice it doesn’t occur to him gifting Magda with violets or other pretty flowers might be stepping over a line Eren wouldn’t want to cross. He’d rather leave that sort of thing to Luca and the other members of Magda’s family. Personal as he’d like his gift to be, this would be like someone other than him or Hanji presenting Levi with a knife. Or a broom. Besides. 

“I was thinking of something more lasting and practical, perhaps,” he says, returning Val’s genuine smile. “Like for the household or anything? For the kitchen maybe. Something that would help her or make her happy.” 

“Oh.” Val scratches his head as he glances towards the ceiling. “We had a pot with a hole she kept cursing about, but she already brought it to the smithy to have it fixed.”

Nodding, Eren rearranges the bag slung over his shoulder. It’s an odd empty weight on his back, demanding to be filled. “Well, it’s nothing too urgent. If anything comes to your mind, would you let me know?”

Val beams, eyes wide. “Of course, Eren. I’m happy to help.” 

Though his eagerness radiates like a glowing shield, there’s also an earnestness in Val’s voice and his politely scrutinising gaze warms Eren from deep within. Val has helped him too this week, without ever so much as a single complaint, sigh, or any sign of hesitance for that matter. Instead, Val gave him chocolate and showed honest practical concern without confronting him with any sign of hysteria. He gave Eren enough space to recollect himself. He fetched Levi.

Although his contributions to Magda’s efforts to bring Eren back on his feet went under in the middle of everything, they deserve some gratitude as well. Kindness often goes unnoticed. Especially the quiet kind that works in the background without ever drawing much attention to itself. 

“I know, Val,” Eren says, sincerity strengthening his voice. “Thank you. For everything you did to help this week too. I know we told Magda to say if you need anything. That includes you as well. All of you.”

“Oh.” Val’s freckles darken under a mild blush as he mumbles, “I did nothing much. Just relieved you’re feeling better.” He looks up from his feet to meet Eren’s gaze. “You are, aren’t you? Captain Levi said so yesterday, and you’re not as pale anymore.”

Eren smiles in reassurance. “Much better, yes.”

“I’m glad.” Val’s shoulders slump a little as he scrubs his nape. “You scared me there for a moment when you, ehr…ah, well. I’m really glad.” 

Feeling his smile spread to his chest, Eren looks to the side, focussing his gaze on the shelf units and a row of paper boxes reading ‘starch flour.’ 

They’re all so worried about him—Levi, Hanji, Mikasa, his friends, the entire town—yet Val somehow is the first person who doesn’t make him feel guilty about causing everyone problems. If anything, he feels lifted and strengthened by the support. Like being part of something bigger. 

“Thank you, Val. I’m glad too,” he replies, halting for a second in his search for better, more meaningful words before closing his mouth. 

Going by the concern lifting from his expression, Val seems to understand nonetheless. “Mum told me you’re curious about cooking,” he says with gleaming eyes.

Eren chuckles. “So I am.”

Shoulders straightening, Val lights up even further. “It’s good to be curious. I like to cook too. Mum taught me, and even Anya says she loves my casseroles though she doesn’t praise lightly. She’s so generous with me. I’m lucky.”

Releasing a smiled sigh, Eren rubs his chest. “Seems we both are.” 

The words are barely out when he bites on his lip. He didn’t want to say that out loud, but something about Val’s friendly ease makes the little reserve Eren has adopted over the last decade slip through his grip. 

It must be Val’s eyes which remind Eren of Rita, or his friendly attitude that, naive as it is in certain areas, is understanding and witty. Or perhaps it’s his unprecedented talent for casting the gloom out of every conversation. Whatever it is, Eren still didn’t intend to open this particular can of worms. 

A mild chuckle expels his awkwardness. “I bet Captain Levi is happy about you wanting to cook for him,” Val says, hands resting loosely on the wooden worktop. “I know he likes to cook for you. He asked me a couple of times…” he blushes when Eren’s head snaps up. 

Levi asked for cooking advice? To cook for him? 

“Anyway…what I wanted to say was if you need any tips, you can always ask us. I like to talk about food. So does mum.” Val’s face is so bright with honest enthusiasm, Eren can’t help but grin. 

“I will. She gave me great advice for a mushroom pan last week. It helped a lot. I’m looking forward to trying myself at her casserole too. She included the recipe…” Hearing himself get carried away, he stops his rambling with a one-shouldered shrug. “I’m not used to having lots of ingredient and condiment options,” he confides. “We always cooked for ourselves in small groups or during missions. But it’s more like making the best with what you have than anything else. I have a food-loving friend who helps me. She’s amazing. We want to make biscuits next.” 

“Oh, biscuits!” Val says. “Which kind?” 

“With chocolate chips and nuts,” Eren replies. He holds the tips of his index finger and thumb together to form a circle. “This big. More or less. I like them this way.”

Val’s freckles come to life. “Oh, they’re the best. I like it when they’re smaller too.” He smiles. “Then you,”

“Can have more of them,” Eren finishes the sentence with him. 

Val laughs. “Exactly. They’re really good with Captain Levi’s tea like this.”

“So they are.” Grinning back, Eren holds warm dark eyes and makes a choice. “I can bring you some if you want,” he offers. “When they’re done, I mean. Enough for you to share them with Anya perhaps?”

“Really?” Val asks with a little bounce. “You’d do that?”

Chuckling at Val’s enthusiasm, Eren nods. “Of course.”

“I’d really like that. Thank you, Eren. We’re looking forward to it.”

They smile at each other, and invigorated by his new plans, Eren takes an anticipating breath as the door opens to let in a kid a good bit smaller than his current first years. 

“Hello Val,” the boy says and freezes at Eren’s sight. “Oh,” he mumbles, staring at the emblems on Eren’s military jacket. “Good day, Sir.” 

“Hi.” Eren grins. 

“Hullo Vincent,” Val says. “Are you visiting your grandma again?”

Vincent nods and approaches the counter. “Yes. And I would like some eggs and apples and sugar, please. I have a list!” His careful fingers open a piece of paper in his hand before he goes up on his tiptoes to hand it across the counter. “I wrote it myself.”

“So you did, huh?” Val says. “So good. Gladys must be so proud of you.”

Vincent beams. 

“Well then.” Eren glances at Val who already studies the note. “I’d better go then. Say hello and thanks to your mum please, would you?”

“Of course, Eren.” Val nods with a smile. “See you soon.”

“Bye Vincent,” Eren says to the wide-eyed boy gaping at him, and leaves into the fresh December noon. His heart filled with lightness and a mission to make biscuits. 

He needs to ask Sasha when they’d best meet to bake them. It’s been over a week since he last cooked under her direct instruction. Every day of it was packed with so many things, but he misses the lessons with her while a wood-carving Connie cracks jokes at their side. He’ll ask her about it today.  

First, he’s got some shopping to do though. For Hanji and Levi both. Levi…who asked Val for cooking tips. Eren should have asked when and on what dishes. Then again, maybe he doesn’t have to ask. The apple gratin earlier this month seemed out of Levi’s usual cooking habit. As did the sausage meatballs in cream. 

Skipping over a bumpy cobblestone underfoot, Eren smiles. That meal will always remind him of silly grins across the dinner table, wet hair, lingering glances, and tingling nerves at least on Eren’s end. Because Levi reached out and kissed him, or maybe it was Eren who kissed Levi, and everything was beautiful, brand new, and exciting. He didn’t have to feel ashamed for wanting Levi anymore. On the contrary. Eren could watch him all evening without holding back, join him in the shower, touch him whenever he wanted, and grin at Levi’s capable fingers peeling chestnuts during chess, with the memory of them gripping him close carved fresh into his skin and heart. 

Even back then Eren loved how normal everything felt. How right. How natural to step out of the shower and towel each other dry under avowing kisses. How after soaking their spoiled clothes and Eren borrowed some slightly misfit yet dry ones, everything fell into place in tacit consent. They continued cooking dinner, ate during easy conversations about their day, and then went over to chess, supplied with a tray full of chestnuts to roast over the fire. It was like any other night, only that it wasn’t. It was the best of Eren’s life. Up until then at any rate. 

Marvelling at the blue sky, Eren ponders the past weeks. The best evening of them all. Returning from a walk across white fields, Levi’s fingers, nose, and lips cold from the frosty night, grey eyes bright; Eren’s pulse a fluttery mess in his chest at the knowledge he was allowed to stay. To make this flat his home. Putting his clothes into Levi’s dresser the day after, unable to stop grinning as his unsteady hands patted his garments before nudging them into the right places. Taking a bath together whilst telling each other tales about their youth and childhood after Eren asked. Levi’s voice a low hum against his chest. 

Finding blissful peace at Levi’s side, slipping into sleep warmed, fed, and protected after nearly passing out on his way home. Every night after and every one ahead, there’s no way to decide on a single one that stands above all the others. Eren doesn’t want them to either. It would feel like belittling everything else that has happened. 

Having Hanji there with them every Friday from now on is something he wouldn’t want to miss anymore either. It made Levi smile differently yesterday, and rarely has Hanji been as calm as this morning.

Maybe they should invite Mikasa and Jean over too, Eren thinks, strolling down the alleyway and smiling at the still chatting pair of soldiers as he passes. They’re family after all, and though Mikasa doesn’t say it, she must want to see where and how he spends his life now. If it weren’t for Jean, Eren would be curious about her new living arrangement as well. Jean is good for her. It’s long been obvious he takes better care for her than Eren ever did, or could.

A human shadow moves across the upper-level light patch on one of the buildings to Eren’s right, and he lifts his head to check the rooftop. Spotting the lanky frame of a Survey Corps member, Eren lifts on his tiptoes to see who is roaming the roofs on the mid-shift Sina-MP-watch. A few moments later, the Scout slips near enough the edge and lowers his head to meet Eren’s eyes, and a huge smirk snaps into place on Niv’s face. 

“Hello, great leader.” He plunks his hooks in the roof cornice, drops down halfway to the ground, and swings in the air like his gear was a child’s toy. “Good to see you out and about today.” 

“Needed to run some home errands. Tom’s got you on watcher duty, huh? You alone today?” He prays Daegel is still at HQ. 

“Oh, I am.” Niv beams, and Eren feels some tension within him subside. 

The last thing he wants is to break up another of Niv and Daegel’s typical fights over who deserves his time more. They are both good soldiers, even if Niv has a penchant for showing off, and Daegel is in eternal trouble for his hot temper. They even work well together, until Eren shows up and it’s like dealing with two over-excited, rivalrous puppies. 

“Need a hand carrying anything back to the shop, Sir?” Niv asks with a look so hopeful it makes Eren stifle a sigh.

“Not at the moment. If I need another set of hands, I’ll let you know,” he winds himself out. With a bit of luck, Niv will be called away, and he can shop in peace.

“Sounds like a plan.” Niv salutes, and with a quick leg pump slides back against the wall where he thrust his feet hard enough to sail back into the air and twists to land on the roof. Some would think it a manoeuvre fitting of Levi’s height of glory in gear use. Then again, nobody will ever truly equal Levi’s mastery of gear. 

Finishing that line of thought with a shake of his head, Eren comes to a halt before a narrow store with buckets and a display of various brushes in the windows. The shop front is bright and sedate, with the opening hours engraved into a brass sign inviting Eren to push open the door and enter. 

Inside, racks mounted to the ceiling allow a multitude of hand brushes, scrubs, and dusting pans to hang from above. More besoms line the walls, propped up in old barrels or hanging from hooks, and provide an interesting assembly of all kinds of cleaning supplies. The air tastes like sawdust, earth, bristles, and polish mingling with soap, and Eren smiles. It’s clear why Levi likes this place. 

Raising one hand, he lets his fingers card through some soft and puffy feathers over his head as an elderly man with receding white hair approaches him, looking stern. “Oh, Mister Yaeger, eh? Good day.”

“Hello,” Eren says, chiding himself for not asking Levi for the vendor’s name. 

“I’m glad to see you up on your feet again. Rumour has it you were sick all week. But as it seems you were already helping out in the café this morning?” The conversational tone is supported by a mirthful pair of crows feet that rules any need for an answer on Eren’s side out. 

He replies anyway. “I’m fine. And yes, I’ve been helping out in the café on the weekends.”

The vendor lifts an open palm. “Not prying. But good to hear you’re well. So what brings you here that I can help you with?”

Smiling, Eren retrieves his hand from the feathers overhead. “I’m looking for a duster.” 

Pale blue eyes gleam at the request. “You found one.” 

He chuckles. For some reason, he’s always found the feather dusters to look and feel nice, but otherwise rather insufficient. “That I have,” he admits. “I want a good one though. The old one we have is thinned out and used up.” 

“You want the same again?” the man asks.

Shrugging, Eren peers around. “I liked it, so why not. It is a grass brush. Like those.” He points at a small collection dangling from the ceiling rack on the shop’s other end, and the man nods. 

“Yes, yes, I remember,” he replies. “Good brooms. But used up already? How often do you use them?” 

“Umm…” 

“That’s an easy question.” 

“Every second day?” 

“Oh, that often, eh? No surprise then.” The vendor lifts light grey bushy eyebrows before he shrugs. “Well, in that case, I would not use grass or grain bristles.” He scratches a shiny bald spot on his head. “Feathers. Mm. Some like it. They can break too though. It’s why I prefer goat. Long lasting. Sturdy. Come with me.” 

Intrigued, Eren follows him to a corner of the shop where a more intense and richer scent dominates the air and a small selection of dusters are stacked into a stand. Some are long-shafted, others short, all with beautiful turnery decorating the warm-hued polished wood. The hair bundles at the ends range from pure white to creamy to brown, and even black, some of them having a dotted pattern. 

“I prefer these,” the man says again. “I told that to Mister Ackerman too but he preferred a flexible handle for himself back then, and the amount of hairs would bend it because of the weight. He liked the versatile scopes too, as I recall.” 

An image of Levi going onto his tiptoes to remove some cobwebs from the ceiling makes Eren smile before he casts it aside to look at the selection before him, and ask, “What are these for?”

“Mere dusting. The hairs attract it, you see?” A knobbly finger points to the rack above. “We have them in brush shape as well. Only a cubit long and comparable to the feather dusters if you ever worked with one of those. But more accurate and suitable for a more vigorous handling. They're thorough too.”

“I see.” Gnawing on his lip with a slight sinking feeling, Eren looks between the options surrounding him. His senses prickle with curiosity and the wish to examine the pretty dusters from up close. Goat hair…

As enticing as this option looks, it’s important Eren does this properly. There must have been a good reason Levi chose the grass brush after all. Which doesn’t mean picking a goat hair duster would be wrong. It simply means Eren would have to buy a second brush to compensate for the lost range. 

The prickling sensation spreads into his arms. His fingers twitch, his palms prickle, and decide it doesn’t hurt to look. Sole staring won’t help him with the decision anyway. “May I pick them up?” he asks, hand already stretched.

The vendor gives an affirmative hum. “Of course.” 

Taking one of the slim-and-long-handled dusters from the stand, Eren’s heart instantly approves. Smooth to the touch, the turned handle is about the length of his arm. The off-white hairs sewn into the wooden head form a near hemispherical shape, and are silky and pliant as Eren runs his fingers through them. He’s unable to hold back the smile building from deep inside. 

“Birch,” the vendor says with an approving nod as Eren inspects the shiny waxed wood. “You can unscrew the head to put it on straight or at an oblique, depending on how you need it. It’s practical for walls and higher items. For more delicate treasures and general flat surfaces or furniture, I recommend the brushes though. The shorter staff and more compact sewn hairs allow a more directed handling.”

Humming, Eren puts the longer item back into the stand before he reaches for the dusters above his head, opting for a white-haired one again. A black strand creates a dark dot at the otherwise creamy tip, which feels just as soft beneath his examining fingers as its white counterparts. The chestnut-hued handle is oiled instead of waxed, and as Eren turns it in his hand, the weight balance is wonderful.

“It’s beautiful,” he says, reining in the temptation to bury his nose deep in the silky hairs. Their unadulterated smell already entices him, surrounding him in a comforting cloud of wood oil, impending cleaning, and aromatic-in-a-nice-way goat. It must be bliss to inhale it all from up close. However, it’s not his duster just yet, so Eren restrains himself by holding the tuft before his eyes whilst revelling in its touch. “I like it.”

The vendor hums. “Lasts a lifetime if you take good care of it. Longer even since the bristles don’t break like they do with straw and other fibres. The grass one you had, you use it for cobwebs too, I understand?”

Turning his gaze away from smooth goat hair and wood, Eren blinks up. “We do, yes.”

“Mm. For that we have the same longer model you just put away, only with horsehair.” 

He guides Eren towards a second stand to his left into which similar slim-stemmed items are stacked. The only distinction to the alluring dusters are the hairs which, albeit still soft, are a bit more bristly and one of them in particular reminds Eren of Meraki’s dark forelock.

Glancing at the grass dusters in the back once more, Eren considers his choices. Though Levi must have preferred one brush for both tasks, now that Eren has moved in, it would be nice to have both options ready for cleaning together. Eren would have bought a twin set anyway, so why not a set of two different kinds for a better efficiency in their respective field? That aside, the two brooms would look nice hanging next to each other on the living room wall. Black and white, long and small. Like a set of chess pieces, waiting for their next mission.

Reluctant to release the duster, Eren contemplates taking Levi here to have the final say. Yet, as his fingers continue to course though fluffy goat hair caressing his skin, his senses and a sudden vision of horse hair tickling Levi’s neck and causing him to laugh make the call for him. If Levi insists on the grass brush, which is unlikely, Eren will buy another one for him. 

“I’ll take them both,” he decides, his feet already moving toward the cobweb broom with the darkest hair. 

Yes, he thinks when a probing touch affirms the similarity to Meraki’s mane. Levi will love it.

“This one,” he says. 

Pale blue eyes lighting up, the vendor smiles. “It’s a good choice. My family has prefered them for generations.”

“How do we maintain them best?” Eren asks. “You said they last long, but they probably need more than good shaking out.”

“They do, yes,” the man replies with a nod. “Mere dust excess you shake out, but once they are dirty they need maintaining so your dusting won’t be in vain. When you notice any smut or soot, you gently wash the hairs under warm water with mild soap, carefully brush them out afterwards, and let them dry in fresh air. For the cobweb broom the same...well. As you deem necessary. I have a recommended cleanser if you need one, but as long as you don’t use that nasty abrading industrial soap, you’re more than covered.” 

“Okay,” Eren says, thinking of Hanji’s blue milk soap bars as he follows the man to the counter. 

The thought is followed by the memory of Hanji clinging on to him as though her life depended on it, and though she recovered so quickly and still looked well earlier today, Eren’s heart aches for her once more. 

He has to help her overcome her fright. He must. If not to cure the fear itself, then to ensure she doesn’t get this dirty ever again. It hurt to witness her this grimy, and from the satisfied air surrounding her an hour ago, he has a feeling she prefers herself free from the grey slime as well. He remembers his first months in the Survey Corps, and though her hair was greasy back then too, she never smelled this bad. There has to be a solution for this. 

“You don’t happen to know a soap shop nearby, by any chance, do you?” he asks, the question making its way out before he thinks it through. 

“For cleaning?” The man asks. “You can get my personal selection for it here. It’s not much, but the basic polishes and cleansers I sell are the best I know.”

“No,” Eren replies, rubbing his neck. “I meant for washing, um…hygiene? Including utensils.” He needs a washcloth or something similar for Hanji, and wouldn’t want to ransack their bathroom cabinet for the soap. Not that Levi would mind, but Eren is certain the complicated pattern of blue and white bars filling up the little space behind the mirror follows an elaborated system. 

“Oh, yes, of course. There’s Adelee close to Kaspar’s studio. The goldsmith,” he adds with a mild smile at Eren’s frown. 

“Oh. Okay.” He nods. He has no idea where that place is. For having lived in, or rather near, this town for over a year now, over two including the SC’s first stay here during the war, he knows surprisingly little about its people. Unless they’re somehow connected to Levi at least.

The vendor’s smile widens at a nod, adding soft lines to his features. “Adelee’s shop’s closed on the weekend, I’m afraid. I can write the opening hours and directions down for you.”

“That would be great, yes,” Eren says with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

The man waves a hand. “Nothing to thank me for, Mister Yaeger. My pleasure. Let me fetch a pen and paper to get it down for you. I have everything at the counter.”

As they pass a cupboard on the way back to the store’s front, something draws Eren’s attention. It takes him a second glance to realise it’s not the collection of wired brushes in various lengths and shapes catching his eyes, but a small tea pot displayed on one of the shelves. It looks like one of those Levi sells in the Sparrow. Plain and practical, yet beautiful.

“What’s this?” Eren asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

The vendor halts in his steps and follows Eren’s pointing fingers. “Oh. That, eh? Dish cleaning brushes. We have them in all different kinds of types for different items. Bottles, glasses, vases, carafes, little flasks, and everything in-between. They’re rather handy, I must say.”

Focus lingering on the displayed tea pot, Eren examines the triplet set of brushes laying next to it. Their wired shafts end in a wooden handle, and whereas one is bent with bristles and a woollen, bobble-shaped tip, the others are with bristles only. One as slim as a little finger and slightly cone-shaped at the end, the other thicker and with the bristled part forming a circle. 

“Have you tried them on tea pots?” Eren asks, interest coursing through his veins in tingling warmth. 

“Oh, yes,” the vendor replies. “I use the thin one for the spout, and the other two for the inner part.”

The ceaseless pile of dishes in the Sparrow’s staff department comes to Eren’s mind, and Levi’s concentrated frown upstairs whenever he cleans the tricky clay pots. They’ve both never minded the extra care they put into tea set cleaning, yet it would make things easier to have better tools. In the café in particular, but for private use too. 

“And they work well?” he asks.

The vendor’s laugh sounds hoarse and like an untrained wheeze; a bit like Levi’s when Eren first met him. “Of course they do. Otherwise, I wouldn’t display them as I do, let alone sell them, would I?”

Face heating up, Eren grimaces an abashed smile. He didn’t want to offend the man. “Sorry.” His fingers fumble with the brooms in his hand. “I’m just curious. We have a brush and washing rags at home, but I never worked with these before.” 

The man shakes his head and holds up a forgiving hand. “That’s because they’re relatively new to my assortment, Mister Yaeger. But I do recommend them. I would like to offer you a special set price if you want to try them.”

Running a fingertip over stubborn prickly bristles and pliant soft wool, Eren pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes roam over the tea pot. Ever since Tuesday he’s been wondering about how to reciprocate for his gorgeous new fur, though it wouldn’t be his only reason. 

The mere thought of presenting Levi with this set and making him smile at new and unexpected pot cleaning tools after causing him so much trouble this week makes Eren’s heart jump with anticipation. After the last few days and all of Levi’s help and worries, this would be the perfect gift for him. 

It’s not about righting a wrong or about making up for Eren always being such a chaotic mess. It’s not even about Eren, much less the fact material things can’t atone for human-caused problems anyway. It’s about making Levi happy, and about Eren showing his thanks for Levi making everything so much easier for him, all the time. Eren wants to give that back. That and…

Levi likes brushes. He should have them. 

Eren smiles. “I do. We’ll have two sets, please.”

 

*

 

Loaded with his new array of cleaning supplies, Eren exits the broom shop with a light pace and a skipping heart. It’s been a while since he bought this much on a single day, and he is far from being finished. The main destination still lies ahead of him, and he heads back towards the high street leading to the town’s core. 

The Saturday market is about to end, and the last-minute weekend shoppers are laden with baskets, smiles, and waves in his direction. “Hello, Mister Yaeger.” “I’m glad to see you’re up on your feet again. Such a nasty flu this winter, isn’t it? And it’s only December…” “What brings you so far away from the café? Heading to the goldsmith? Don’t tell me you plan to pop the big question tonight.” 

Countering the questions with smiles and as many evasive answers he can concoct, Eren pushes his way through the crowd and the market’s booths, basking in the lively babble of voices around him. It’s good to see the people unperturbed, with friends and families chattering over a box with cabbage while the children run around amongst them. All wrapped up in thick winter clothes and seemingly unfazed by Claudio’s presence in town. 

A sudden gust of steam puffs in Eren’s face. His heart leaps. His muscles tense. His eyes search for danger. Adrenaline shoots into his veins while his hands grip swords that aren’t in his hands. 

A fraction of a second later, the steam’s distinct nuttiness fills his lungs, and Eren relaxes, chuckling at himself. 

“Chestnuts,” he sighs as his mouth waters, head filling with images of him and Levi peeling freshly roasted nuts from their shells and indulging next to the fireplace with Gunpowder tea. Levi’s eyes were clear and smiling, and whenever he put a freed fruit into his mouth before moving another figure on the half-forgotten chess board, Eren’s belly burst with butterflies. Churning. Rumbling. Similar to as it does now. 

With the growling protest comes the realisation he hasn’t had anything to eat since Levi shoved a goat-curd-spread bagel under his nose a few hours ago. Eren turns his head, searching for the scent’s source, and finds it a few steps ahead where a tiny old woman pokes in a big pan with ball-shaped treats. 

Stomach grumbling once more, he smiles. He could buy a bag and leave some for Levi. Regarding it’s past lunchtime, it would be better he has something more filling first. Maybe he should find a real meal and come back on his way home.

He blinks at the price sign when a female voice calls his name, somewhere to his right. “Eren, hey!”

A quick glance reveals a smiling, vaguely familiar woman, followed by a grinning man. “So nice to see you here,” he says as they stop before him.

“I hope the stew was all right,” his companion says, and now Eren knows who they are. 

“Hello, Desiree. Dennis. Yes, thank you. It was fantastic. Please tell your mother my thanks.”

They beam. 

“Will do,” Dennis says. “Such a nice surprise to see you here. We thought we’d only see you later.”

“Mum’s planning roast sandwiches for you two,” Desiree explains.

Dennis nods. “With the best sauce ever, you’ll see. But really. Where are you going? Not to Kaspar’s by any chance?” 

“Eh,” Eren stammers. At least he knows who Kaspar is now. “No.” He about to say he’s heading towards the haberdashery, but Desiree slaps her brother’s arm. 

“Stop being so nosy, Dennis. Couples need their little secrets. Don’t they, Eren?” She grins with a wink as she tucks her wicker basket into the crook of her arm, causing some honey jars and garlic bulbs to tumble around.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dennis rolls his eyes as he elbows his sister in the ribs. “My sister likes to tell me how stupid I am. Especially about relationships because clearly, she’s an expert.” He ignores her snort at the mention. “Seriously though. Where are you going, Eren? We don’t see you out in these parts of town too often.”

“Heading to Barb and Pearl’s,” Eren says. 

“Oh, what are the odds?” Desiree gestures between herself and Dennis with a mitten-gloved hand. “So are we. Well, we’ll go there after we finish our errands here and have one of Otto’s mince pies while we’re at it. They’re amazing. But yeah, Mum needs a new apron for the pub.”

Dennis nods. “She singed hers at the roasting pit.”

“Nothing happened, so no worries,” Desiree continues before Eren has the chance to ask. “It didn’t burn, fortunately, but the apron has had it.”

“She and Gran are already preparing dinner for the pub, so she sent us out.”

“She sent  _ me _ .” Desiree points out with a huff. “You just tagged along.”

Putting his hands into his pockets, Dennis bounces on the heels of his feet. “Because you’re useless without me, sis.”

Desiree snorts. “Say that again the other way around, and you’re closer to being right.”

“As if you wouldn’t be bored without my fabulous company.”

Grinning at their squabbling, Eren inhales a new cloud of chestnut-scented air as his thoughts trail off. The chestnuts he and Levi roasted that first, kiss-enchanted evening were from Evelyn. Courtesy of Magda. They both have been feeding him and Levi the past week, just as Simone catered for them with her stew on Thursday. After crying his heart out against Levi’s chest, there couldn’t have been a better meal waiting for them at home. It’s as though Simone had known a rich, consoling meat broth would be heaven on earth that night. And now Simone needs a new apron.

“What kind of apron?” Eren interrupts the twins who stop their needling to peer at him, both heads cocked to a side. 

“Hm?” Desiree asks.

“What kind of apron are you planning to get her?” Eren starts anew. “More plain or…?”

They look at each other before refocusing on him. 

“The one she destroyed was red,” Dennis says, brushing his fringe out of his face. “With white stripes.” 

“Thin stripes,” Desiree adds. 

“And two pockets.”

“One single pocket, Dennis. Two entries.” 

“Oh…” He closes his mouth as he frowns. “Right.”

Desiree rolls her eyes but grins. “Why do you ask, Eren?” She gasps, hand stretching out. “Wait! Your new apron isn’t like that too, is it? We heard about it, but we thought it would be black, like Captain Levi’s.”

“Don’t tell us you want to return it,” Dennis says with a mild frown. “We were already looking forward to having a peek at it. Evelyn was so thrilled to hear you said you’d keep it this morning.” 

Eren chuckles. “I’m not returning it. I love it, actually. But,” he rubs his neck. “I was wondering how to tell those who helped us this week our thanks. And I thought I could maybe give them something small but practical which they might need. An apron would be perfect, considering your mum and the others cooked for us.” 

“Oh!” Desiree claps and hops. “Such a sweet idea. Mum would love that! Wouldn’t she, Dennis?”

“She would.” His brownish-green eyes scan Eren with firm sincerity. “But are you sure, Eren? We’re always glad to help you or Captain Levi out with something, so there’s really no need. Plus we cook for lots of folks anyway, so what’s an additional two servings.”

Clasping her hands together, Desiree nods. “That truly goes without saying, Eren. And Captain Levi already paid for the ingredients, so neither of you owes us anything whatsoever.”

“It helped a lot though,” Eren insists. “And I know Levi ordered more.” He breaks off, sighing and kicking a jutting cobblestone before he meets their gazes again. “I’d rather thank Simone and the others with something that helps them in return, that’s all.”

The twins are quiet for so long, Eren looks up from his feet. 

Smile lighting up again, Desiree nods. “Well, that settles it then.” 

“It’s a wonderful idea, really,” Dennis says. “Mum will be happy.”

“Do you want us to keep it a secret for now? So you can surprise her yourself?”

“If that isn’t too much to ask for, that would be great, yeah,” Eren replies. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Eren.” Dennis chuckles. “We can tell her a little fib the aprons were all out or that we forgot.”

“Barb and Pearl usually have a few patterned and more fashionable ones in stock,” Desiree explains at Eren’s frown. 

“Oh. Okay.” Though that’s good to know, he chews on his bottom lip. Dennis and Desiree shouldn’t have to lie to their mother to contribute to his little plan.

“It’s all right, Eren,” Desiree says with a wide smile. “Don’t worry. Mum can keep using mine for now. Or the one from upstairs. And we’re happy to cover for you when it’s for a good cause like this.”

“You bet, Eren. Does that mean you are planning on giving an apron to Evelyn too? And Magda? They’ll be thrilled as well, you know.”

While Desiree beams at him in agreement, Eren shrugs. “I wanted to give them something too, yes. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about their colour preferences, would you?”

“You know what?” Desiree says with a tilt of her head. “I’d ask Barb and Nanna Pearl what they recommend. They know best and have a good eye for such things as well.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Dennis nods. “They know everything. It’s scary.”

Desiree smirks at her brother. “Of course that is true for someone who puts salt into his coffee.”

“It looked like sugar!” Dennis grimaces at his sister’s laughter before he raises both eyebrows at Eren who chuckles. “It tasted awful. I don’t recommend it. But what Dee says is right. Ask Barb and Nanna Pearl. They’ll know what each of them like.”

“They’ll be in high spirits to see you anyway,” Desiree says. “They saw you Monday, mum said, Asked us to tell anyone who asked you a cold. You look all right though.”

Eren blinks. “What?” 

“Yeah, you look well,” Desiree answers. “Far better than they described. Oh, you meant what they told us. Yeah. They didn’t want any bad rumours spreading around town with the Sina MPs here.”

“How have they been treating you this week?” Dennis asks. “We already told Captain Levi to ignore them and not waste too many worries on them. We’ll be glad when they leave again. No one’s happy they’re here. Everyone likes giving them a hard time in return.”

Eren’s hand clasps tight around the strap of his bundle.“Did they give you trouble?” 

Desiree bursts into laughter. “Ha! No.” 

“Gran threatened a pair of them with the poking stick yesterday,” Dennis says, smirking. “They came in under the pretence of wanting supper.”

Snatching a leek from her basket, Desiree imitates waving a long hot stick. “We don’t serve fancy food,” she mimics a raspy voice. “Better leave before you catch something nasty from the marinade.” 

She bursts into laughter again, holding her stomach. The jars in her basket clank against each other, and Eren can’t help but join in. 

Folding his arms, Dennis chuckles with them. “You should have seen it. It was brilliant. Even more so when Lea and her friends stood up and told them to leave because they were ruining the mood and scaring away the rats. I almost was expecting a fight, honestly, but no.” 

Desiree wipes tears of mirth out of her eyes. “Life isn’t a romance novel, Dennis.” She shakes her head and fixes Eren with a smile. “Excuse my brother. He’s a stupid-head sometimes.”

While Dennis gives her a playful shove, Eren smiles. He wouldn’t have been surprised if that situation ended in a fight. This town is Lea’s group’s territory. Provoking open conflict with her—subordinate to them as she is—could have ended badly for Claudio’s men. Eren releases a wistful sigh at the thought. A pity, really. They could have gotten rid of Claudio a week early this way. 

“Seriously though,” Dennis says. “Everything’s good. We can take care of ourselves. Can’t we, sis?”

“You bet we can.” She grins at Eren. “Besides. Your men are close by everywhere. We know we can ask for help should we need it after all. But don’t you worry.” Her hand slaps Eren’s arm. “This town sticks together.”

Eren nods. “Good.” 

Her responding chuckle is interrupted by a sudden “oh!” before she waves at someone behind Eren. “It’s Rupert. What’s he doing here today?” She turns to Eren. “Well then. Thank you in advance for mum’s apron. If you need anything, you know where to find us. And we’ll see you later anyway.” Then she takes her brother by his arm to drag him along as she calls, “Rupert, hey!”

“Bye, Eren,” Dennis says, feet stumbling for a second as they both shuffle through the crowd towards someone who must be Rupert. 

Chuckling at their boundless temper, Eren readjusts the bundle on his shoulder as the woman at the chestnut booth scrapes her pan. 

A small girl hands her a few coins in exchange for a steaming bag she accepts with shining eyes and an exclaimed “ouch, ouch, ouch!” She stuffs the bag in the crook of her arm and hastes off to her parents with bouncing steps. “They’re so hot!” 

Looking after her with a smile, Eren chews on his lip. Chestnuts would be wonderful, but aside from the fact they taste better when shared, they are barely enough in his case. He needs something more filling. 

Fuck, he’s hungry. How could he have forgotten about lunch? It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t the day before his next serum dose. Yet it is, and restful as the previous day was, his energy is leaving him by the second, making his legs wobble and his palms prickle in need of something to eat.

_ Otto’s mince pies are amazing, _ Desiree’s words sound in his head, and Eren’s stomach growls at the mere thought. 

Squaring his shoulders, he approaches the little woman with the chestnut pan. “Um, excuse me?” he says.

“Want some chestnuts, love?” she asks, wrinkly face creasing as she smiles at him. “They’ll warm you up.”

“Uh, no…” Eren says before he can hold the words in. He frowns at himself and summons a smile. “They smell great though. I think I’ll come by later again if you’re still there. But do you know where I can find Otto?”

“Sweet tooth, aren’t you?” the woman says, blinking against the hot chestnut steam. “Well aren’t you a treasure.” She flashes a toothless smile and points to her left with the flat ladle in her grip. “Two rows down and to your right. Can’t miss him. It’s the stall with the colourful bunting and the very loud man that looks like a soft barrel.”

“Thank you,” Eren says with a sigh of relief. “That’s a big help.”

“You’re Eren Yaeger,” the woman says as if she just noticed, eyes widening while they search his gaze. 

“Er, yes. I am.”

“Beautiful.” There’s a small silence before she takes an empty paper bag from a pile. “Come back later, and I’ll give you some extra nuts for you and Captain Levi, yes?” She smiles again and turns to a customer asking for a double portion.

Blinking at her before looking down at his feet, Eren chuckles and follows her directions. 

Otto, indeed, is easy to find. Pennons in all colours of the rainbow adorn his booth, and Otto himself advertises his goods in a sonorous voice that draws Eren from afar. 

“Mince pies! Citrus and drupes. Fresh from the oven this morning! Only a few pieces left.”

The pies look mouth-watering too. Being the perfect size for a meal on the go, some of them are closed with thick red, caramelised juice pressing its way out of the baked shortcrust while others are decorated with a star-shaped and sugar-sprinkled top. 

Stomach growling fierce, Eren looks between them, unable to choose. 

“Good day, fella,” Otto booms with an infectious smile. “I haven’t seen you at my booth before. Would you like to try somethin’?”

“Yes, please,” Eren says. “I skipped lunch and heard your pies are good. Which do you recommend?”

Otto’s cheeks swell so large they shine. “Oh, you’re asking the wrong man ‘ere. I make ‘em and sell ‘em both, and hence I am proud of all of ‘em. What do  _ you _ like, I should ask? They’re a bit different, so maybe I can help if I know more about your taste.”

I eat everything, really, Eren wants to say, but shrugs. 

Otto laughs. “Typical soldier, aren’t you? Well, all right. Maybe it will help you to know the ones with the stars on ‘em are with lemon, orange, and cinnamon. The others are sweeter with dried cherries, plums and slightly stronger spiced.”

Eren looks at the pies, both varieties plump and crumbly, and meets Otto’s gaze. “I think I’ll try them both.”

Otto claps his hands. “You really will, won’t you? Well, can’t say you’ll be disappointed. What you don’t finish right away you can keep for another day or two in these temperatures.” He grabs one pie each with big paws, yet careful fingers, wrapping the pastries into glassine paper before handing them over. “On the house,” he says with twinkling eyes.

Eren scowls, retrieving his hand from the enticing, warm bundle. “No.”

“I know who you are,” Otto says. “Spread it around you like my pies if you do, and you paid more than enough.”

Conflict yanking at his increasingly rumbling stomach, Eren bites his lip. It’s one thing to get a little extra out of a deal, but he won’t take food from a stall for free when he can pay for it. No matter how much the small voice in his head insists it’s stupid and perhaps the wrong moment to be prideful. He doesn’t want to owe the man for taking away his sustenance. Plus, it’s  _ food _ . 

“If you don’t like ‘em enough to recommend ‘em, you can pay me next week.” Otto smiles. “I’ll come to the Sparrow myself if you want to make sure of it. You will like ‘em, however. And I know it isn’t true, but you look like you haven’t seen food in days.” 

When Eren doesn’t relent, Otto nudges the bundle further, his expression matching his softening voice. “Take my pies, son. You don’t owe me anything for ‘em.”

Meeting small, sincere eyes in a kind meaty face, Eren sighs. “I will pay for one.”

Otto smiles, and holds out an open palm. “Fair enough.”

 

*

 

Eren manages to hold off scoffing the warm pastries long enough to escape the market’s core and find a remote place a little distance outside. A small group of Underground Squad soldiers laugh nearby, hands clutched around bagels while they pass a steaming thermos cap around. It looks like it’s from Levi’s café. 

Nodding at their greeting waves as he passes, Eren comes to a halt in a more secluded corner, and sighs, unwrapping the first pie. It’s the pastry with the star on its top, and as Eren bites into it, instant buttery happiness bursts in his mouth in a crumbly, sticky explosion of sour-sweet spices, making him groan at the taste. 

“Thank you, Desiree,” he mumbles, taking another bite with closing eyes as the soldiers laugh again.

“I swear we soon have to lock ourselves in during mealtimes,” Chuckles’ hoarse voice says.

“Oh, come on, man,” Zander says, baritone light with mirth. “I mean, sure, it’s worse than usual but you’re exaggerating.” 

Natasha hums. “It’s not like we can’t defend ourselves. Next time, I’ll have my knife ready.”

“Right, Nat. Wouldn’t the Commander love that?” Zander snickers. “Fights in the mess hall. With the pigs still around, no less. Tom would be mad as hell too. I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes if you start that shit.”

Samira laughs. 

“Leave the fights to Daegel and Niv’s groups,” Chuckles says. They’ll finish anything them pigs wanna start. Anyway,” he adds with a little singsong. “I bet someone’s up the pole there…” 

Blending their gossip out, Eren chews on his treat with another sigh. 

If he had known there’s such brilliant food at the local weekend market, he’d have visited it far more often than he has so far. Otto has every right to praise his pastries with pride. Aside from their outstanding taste, they seem to be an efficient energy boost for his critical days. There’s nothing left from the prior weakness in his knees, and Eren is only half-way through the first pie. 

Sharp paper rustling sounds from his left, and he opens his eyes to the soldiers packing away their empty bagel wrappings and thermos before regrouping in pairs. 

“See you, Eren,” Chuckles says, reaching for his gear handles. “Tell Levi thanks for his coffee.”

Swallowing his mouthful of food, Eren grins. “I will.”

Nat winks with a tap against her knitted cap before shooting her hooks into the air, followed by the others. A moment later, the four of them are up on the roofs, and Eren smiles after them, squinting against the sun. 

Dennis and Desiree were right. Scouts and local MPs are everywhere, keeping an eye open for trouble from Claudio’s men all across town. It’s a welcomed comfort. Tom’s top men hate being bored, but with the distraction, there’s something other to do than train all day, no matter how uncomfortable the circumstances are.

Discarding the thought, Eren tends back to his lunch, startling when his empty hand meets his lips. He frowns. He ate without noticing again. The bag is still warm in his hand, though, and he shrugs, reaching for the second pastry. Fortunately, he bought two. He bites into it with another groan at rich fruitiness and cardamon. 

The sun is shining. Levi has found help for the café, Hanji is well, his friends will visit later, and with a little bit of luck, he’ll come home with not only new brooms and brushes for Levi, but also with three fitting gifts for their wonderful helpers. 

Life is good. And after finishing his errands, Eren muses as he delights in another generous bite of pie, he will fetch some chestnuts too. 

 

*

 

“Mister Yaeger! Oh, what a lovely surprise.” 

Smiling at the silver-haired woman welcoming him with a delighted cry, Eren closes the door and crosses the creaky boarding to plunge into the comfort-brimming vivacity that is the local haberdashery. “Hello, Barb.” 

Opposed to the remote, earth-coloured, and sober little broom shop, or Magda’s peaceful store, Barb and Pearl’s realm is a kaleidoscopic, spangled, and spacious place, fitted for the town centre. It’s brightly lit by traditional oil lamps, and emanates a certain cosiness that invites to explore, create, and smile. 

Similar to the Sparrow, the shiny floor is of a warm polished wood. The walls are white and crossed by dark beams stretching to the ceiling. Every available space is either decorated with little craft pieces for sale or crammed with materials. The shelves are overflowing with yarn, multi-coloured balls of wool, thick bundles of various fabrics, congeries of buttons, ribbons, beads, thimbles, and all sorts of paraphernalia. Lively chatter sounds from the back, laced with giggles and the sounds of tools, steps, and rustling.

Upon his greeting, however, the chattering stops as a wispy yet strong voice calls, “Who is it, dear?”

“Mister Yaeger, mother,” Barb calls, hasty fingers rearranging the bonnet on her head. “What a lovely surprise indeed.”

Pearl’s answer mingles with some high-pitched tittering. “Let me see,” she croaks, then adds with a sharp tone, “And oh, go back to work, you silly goose. You’re too far behind already with that embroidery without such nonsense. He’s a person too, and just another customer.”

As Eren rubs his neck with a bashful smile, Barb fiddles with her fingers and blinks at him with dark eyes. “Is something wrong with the apron, Sir?” she asks whilst carpet-muffled steps approach from the back. “I hope the addition wasn’t too big a shock. We thought it would be so fitting…do you like it?”

Self-consciousness cast aside, Eren chuckles. “I like it a lot,” he promises and slips his bundle from his shoulder to produce the small, wax-paper-wrapped parcel. “It’s actually one of the reasons I’m here. I wanted to thank you in person. Levi said you like coffee.” He places the bundle onto the counter and smiles. “It’s already pre-ground, so all you have to do is brew it.” 

Barb brightens as she reaches for the packet and lifts it to her nose. “You brought us coffee. Oh, how wonderful! What do we owe you for it?”

Eren shakes his head with lifted palms. “Nothing. Please. It’s a gift.”

Barb’s small mouth falls open. “A gift. From you. For us? Oh, you are too kind!” She glances at Pearl. “Mother, look! It’s a gift! It smells lovely as always.”

“What is it?” Pearl asks, leaning onto a walking stick as she wobbles closer.

“Coffee. From the Sparrow.”

“Oh, that is lovely. And is this truly Eren Yaeger or do I need new glasses?”

“It truly is, mother,” Barb replies, and Eren chuckles at the woman squinting her eyes through thick spectacles. 

White wispy curls escape her delicately crafted snood, and her wrinkled face creases further as she smiles. “Well, we haven’t properly talked since last week. What’s the occasion? Oh, you must have come for your orders. Barb? Fetch Mister Yaeger his purchases. And Mister Ackerman’s too while you’re at it.”

“Of course, mother.”

“Yes, thank you,” Eren says as Barb scurries to the back. “That, and I wanted to thank you for the apron, Pearl.”

“What was that?”

“The apron, mother,” Barb calls over her shoulder.

Sudden life seems to burst through Pearl as she trundles forward with impressive speed. “You received it! So wonderful. Do you like it? Oh, wait, let me come a bit closer so I can hear you better without you having to scream at me. Everyone thinks age has cooked my brain if I keep asking them to repeat everything when it’s only the ears that don’t work as they should anymore.” 

Waiting for her, Eren thinks one must be very stupid to think such a thing. Despite the heaviness of her years, as evident in her bent back and rickety movements, Pearl’s eyes are lit with intellect and observe everything around her with hawk-like sharpness. She stands before him now, smiling with a spark lighting up her face as a strong, gnarly hand clasps around his wrist. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

Squeezing her fingers, Eren laughs. “Yes, I did. I do. A lot, actually. And I brought you the coffee from the Sparrow as a thank you.”

“Aren’t you sweet,” she says, releasing his hand to tug at his jacket as if to straighten it out. “The coffee wouldn’t have been necessary, but we accept it, of course.”

Wanting to reply she’s welcome, Eren opens his mouth but is interrupted by voices peaking in the back, escalating in a boisterous fit of giggles. 

“Didn’t mother just tell you to get to work?” Barb’s snap sets an abrupt end to the giggling. “Gossip all you want, but don’t let it get in the way. Paula, don’t be a bad influence on Valerie. Don’t give that Lobelia person any credit. Evelyn said nothing happened yet, so get back to that stitching. It won’t get itself done on its own.” 

“You must excuse us,” Pearl says, petting Eren’s chest. “The girls are out of control today.”

Having a sudden flash of Rita stirring up his every class, Eren grins. “It’s all right, Pearl. I don’t mind.”

Pearl smiles and gives his lapels another pat. “You look thin, my boy. Are you all right? You must have had a straining week.”

Eren nods. “I am thank you. Just had some mince pies to strengthen up.”

“Oh, Otto has pastries again? Good, good. Barb’s loved them since she was a little kid. Always had to get her a bit on the weekend. Otto’s mother still made them then. It was our special occasion. But what is it with the capital soldiers in town? Are they treating you badly? I don’t like the sight of them.”

Eren sighs, but maintains his smile. “They’ll be gone soon, Pearl.”

“I hope so. Don’t need them sniffing around here when you aren’t too well, do we?” Her words brush a thought in the back of Eren’s head. 

“Did you tell everyone I had the flu to cover for me?” he bursts out. 

Pearl cackles, her dark eyes filled with mischief. “We did. Smart, don’t you think? We saw young Magda collect you from the streets Monday evening. You were rather green and shaky, I must say, so what were we supposed to do? Can’t have nasty rumours going around with so many up-to-no-good strangers on the streets, so better start our own.” Her fingers grip Eren’s hand again as she beams, this time with so much force it reminds him of Hanji clinging to him in the bath. “Always come to Nanna Pearl and her Barb when you’re in trouble. We have your back.” 

She releases his hand to pat it a few times, and Eren stretches his sore fingers behind his back as Barb returns to the counter. She’s carrying a big pile of textiles so high it reaches to her rosy cheeks, and she has to peek around to see where she’s going. 

“These are your orders,” she says, placing the heap onto the counter before laying out some of the items. “Cleaning rags and polishing cloths Captain Levi ordered for the café on Wednesday. Blanket cases, pillow cases, and double big mattress sheets. This is the cotton edition for winter in duplicate, and this the extra flax twin set for summer. All bleached white and pre-ironed. Are you still certain about the bleach wash only? We can provide dyes if you want.” 

Eren nods. Levi looks beautiful surrounded by crisp white sheets, with tufts of his dark hair poking out from under the blanket during sleep just as much as when he’s sprawled out across them. “White is just fine, thank you.”

The wrinkles around Pearl’s eyes deepen further. “They should last you for a while now with the ones the Captain bought two years ago.” She sighs, leaning on her cane as her gaze assumes a wistful distance. “I remember when I was young and freshly married to Terry. Went through lots of sheets back then. Ah, the beauty of young love.” She blinks, back to the present, and grins at Eren who starts to sweat even before she continues. “Best make sure you don’t break the bed though.” 

“Mother!” Barb says, arms akimbo and cheeks glowing with colour. “Stop embarrassing our customers.”

Pearl waves her off. “Oh, don’t be so niminy-piminy, dear. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. The entire town is happy for them, and they deserve it too.” She shakes her head with a tsk before turning to Eren again. “You still have to tell us what your Captain said to the apron. Did he like it too?” 

Leaping onto the change of topic, Eren nods. “He likes it a lot, yes.” At least if Levi’s glances and following kisses in the staff department are anything to go by.

Pearl pats his arm again. “That’s what I thought. He’s a good man, your Captain. We were still worried he might not approve so we prepared a backup apron. Take it out of the pile, Barb.”

“Oh!” Eren says, heart skipping as he spots a small back wedge peeking out from between the cleaning rags and towels. “No, please. That’s perfect, actually. We’ll take it.”

Hands stilling, Barb frowns. “But we thought you liked our surprise.”

Eren chuckles. “I do. It’s not for me. We have help at the café now, and she needs an apron too.”

Pearl knocks on her cane. “Finally! That man’s hours are too long to stem alone. I always said so, but would anyone listen to me?” She fixes Eren with a sharp gaze that demands an answer. “Who is it? Someone proper, I hope.”

“Eh, Diane…?” Eren says, searching for a surname but drawing a blank. “She has a blue scarf. She seems nice.”

“Margret’s girl!” Pearl cries, her entire face wrinkling as she smiles. “Wonderful. Honest family. Such a shame with her heart, really. Margret, I mean. But oh, such good news. She’ll be of good help for you, you’ll see. Competent young woman. And she’ll be glad about the extra payment. The playschool pays shit.”

“Mother, really,” Barb chides again.

“It’s all true, dear, and I’m old enough to call the child by its name, so I damn well will when I want to.” She smiles at Eren. “You can have the extra apron. As I always say, it all works out the way it should. Is there anything else we can help you with?”

“Yes, there is, actually,” he says, fishing Hanji’s list out of his chest pocket. “We also need clothes for a friend, and I was hoping you could help me with them.” 

“What kind of clothes?” Barb asks. “As long as it’s functional work or daily wear, we certainly can. For fine things, you’d have to go to Duncan’s. He’s two corners down the road south.”

“Mm.” Pearl nods with a smile. “Best go to him for your tux if you want to impress your Captain on your wedding day. And vice versa.”

Levi doesn’t need a tux for that, Eren muses. Or at least he thinks it’s what he does until Pearl tilts her head with a widening smile that tells him he said it out loud. He really has to learn how to keep certain thoughts to himself. 

“Oh, you’ll see,” Pearl says with another pat on his wrist. “It’s part of a wedding, dressing up a bit. Making each other’s eyes shine and the heart beat a bit faster. Not that the wrapping counts when you love each other, of course, but it is nice to look smart on your big day. Trust me. My Terry looked stunning in his uniform, yet still, I’m glad we did it the proper way. Made it more memorable and special, you see? But you do whatever feels right for you. I’m sure you will.”

“Braces,” Barb says from behind the counter, eyeing Eren with a scrutinising frown. “No belt. You’d look nice with those.”

Pearl follows her gaze, examining Eren with professional inspection. “Oh, I can see that, dear. He’s tall but has the right figure, not to mention that smile. Makes me feel twenty years younger at least.” Her wrinkly face softens. “You’ll tell us if you need any help when it’s time, won’t you? Duncan does fine work, but it’s a relief to have another pair of eyes for such occasions. We won’t spread anything around either, and would be happy to give you some advice to make your Captain’s eyes fall out. Even if it’s only for the final colour choices.”

Touched and slightly taken aback by the offer, Eren swallows. “Um, thank you. I’ll remember that, I guess.”

Pearl’s gnarly fingers squeeze his arm with astonishing force. “You’re a sweet man. Are those the measurements for your friend?” she asks, squinting at the note. 

Blinking at Pearl, Eren remembers the paper in his hands. “Oh. Yes.” 

Pearl gestures at Barb when she sees Hanji’s scrawl. “Give it to my daughter. She has better eyes than me these days.” 

“I hope it’s enough,” Eren says, handing Barb the paper. “Otherwise I can get more details if you need them?”

Putting a pair of reading glasses onto her nose, Barb skims the list with a nod. “Seems all right. And we can send one of the girls or come by ourselves if there should be anything to discuss. What exactly do you need and how much?” 

“Mostly underwear. Binders for the chest, as comfortable as you can make them…” he trails off as he estimates the needed amount. “Three of those, please. Four pairs of underpants that won't constrict too much and will be good to wear during work. She likes male briefs. A set of nightwear—I think she prefers the trousers and buttoned shirt kind. And three shirts for day wear. Buttoned as well.” The rest of Hanji’s clothes, pants, gear apron, foot bandages, and shoes, they will be able to get at HQ.

“The underwear we have in stock,” Barb says. “I’ll fetch them for you right away. The other things might take two weeks to get done.” 

She turns around to open a wooden drawer and retrieves something before she moves towards another drawer. A moment later, she adds briefs and binders to the other items on the countertop. “Do you have any fabric or colour wishes for the outer wear?” 

Eren frowns. “Eh…do I have to?”

Pearl laughs softly. “He’s a soldier, Barb, not a tailor.” She blinks up at Eren. “We’ll use something solid. It has to be durable as I understand?”

“Yes, please. Not too white,” he says. It will be better with Hanji’s hygiene issues. “She usually wears greyish, yellow shirts.”

She nods. “We know Commander Zoe. Leave it to us, we’ll take care of it.”

Eren smiles. “Thank you. And also I am looking for gifts.”

Beaming, Barb inhales a little gasp. “Gifts! For who?”

“ _ Whom _ , dearest,” Pearl says before fixing Eren again. “What kind of gifts?”

“More aprons,” Eren confides, rubbing his neck. “For Magda, Evelyn, and Simone. As a little thank you for all their help. Desiree and Dennis, well, they said you might be able to help me with what they’d like? It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Wonderful!” Pearl bustles her way around the corner where more shelves line the wall. “Come with me. We’ll find you something. Simone and Evey both prefer warm colours with some little decor to pep it up. We have a new pattern and modern prints that they’ll love. Scoop neck and ruffle straps…” she chatters on as Eren follows her trotting down the aisle, not having a clue what she’s talking about but being confident she does. 

“Do you want them further ornamented?” she asks when they reach a rack with a colourful selection, not waiting for a reply before she shoves her cane into Eren’s hand. “Hold this for a moment, will you? I need both hands to look.” 

“Ornamented?” Eren asks as he takes the cane. The assembly before him looks more than ornamented enough, with its printed fabrics, curly seams, and whatnot. 

Pearl winks as she explains, “We stitch well as you know.” She pulls a dark red apron with rose pattern and frills from the rack and hums before handing it to Eren. “For Evey.” 

“Oh.” Eren hangs Evelyn’s apron over his left forearm, careful not to crease the fabric too much. It looks far too pretty for his big hands. “I don’t know. Depends, I guess.” 

Pearl smiles. “Nothing big. We wouldn’t want to ruin the sewing work. But we could stitch their names on them to add a nice personal detail.” She squints at a second apron, red and black checkered. “Ah, no, too dark,” she says, putting it away, “even for Simone. Ha! This one.” 

She pulls out another that, to Eren, looks exactly like the one she discarded right before, and hands it to him. “So what do you say to the embroidered names?” 

“That would be great, yes,” Eren agrees. It indeed would be a nice personal detail, even more so when done right. “Would you add from who they are too? Our initials are enough.”

“Of course.” Pearl nods. “Should it be prominent? Or only a small marking? Maybe on the pockets.”

Peering at the aprons in his hands, he frowns. “I’m used to tags.” It might be a bit stiff like this but it’s the only way he knows, and he wouldn’t have to decide on tricky decoration colours and placements he has no keen sense for. 

“Like in the military,” Pearl enthuses. “I always did them for Terry’s clothes too. It will be like having your own Support Squad uniforms.” 

She cackles at her own joke and shakes her head as she proceeds to perusing the assortment in the wardrobe instalment. “For Magda…hm. Let’s see. Something bright. Not red. Makes her look pale in this amount, and she’s not too fond of v-necks. No, too purple.”

As his gaze roams over a collection of items next to her, Eren’s attention catches on a myriad of delicate violets blooming on thin green stems printed on white fabric. He smiles. 

“This one,” he says, holding it out for Pearl with a lifted brow to give her the final say. 

Her eyes sparkle behind her big glasses, and her mouth forms an “oh!” before she sighs. “Perfect.”

Feeling light, Eren carefully places Magda’s gift onto the others. He hands Pearl back her cane, and returns to the counter where Barb has begun wrapping his packages. She beams at the items in his arms. 

“Oh, wonderful!” she says with a cheerful nod. 

“Aren’t they?” Eren beams back. 

Pearl’s firm hand pats his back. “They’ll look lovely in them.”

“Good,” he sighs, still smiling.

“So, now to the tags. What do you want on them?” Pearl asks, retrieving a notebook and a pencil. “Their names and your initials you said? Any ornamental letters or plain script?”

As he ponders his answer, Eren gnaws on his bottom lip. The three colourful aprons lie next to the bundle for the Sparrow with Diane’s black one on top, embroidery-free and plain. They all look so different, of course, they do. Yet he wants them to be special. A gift only for each of them, and no one else. A unique present for them all, from Levi and him. As sufficient and fine as a simple name tag is, hidden inside the garments where no one will see them, it feels like something is missing to give it the final touch. 

He needs something a bit more visible and outstanding. Like his own apron has. 

Heart kicking at the forming plan, he meets Pearl’s eyes. Well, Evelyn gave him a new title too, didn’t she? And didn’t Pearl say it herself earlier? 

“Actually,” he says, grinning at the mirth reflecting back at him. “Could you add two each? I have an idea.”

 

*

 

The turret clock rings three in the afternoon when Eren buys the last steaming chestnuts from the tiny old woman at the market.

“I was just about to pack in and leave,” she says. “But I see you were busy.” Her witty eyes scan the massive bundle under his arms and the close to brimming bag on his shoulder. “Moving day?” she asks with a whimsical lilt in her tone.

Eren laughs. “No, I already moved last week. These are just purchases.”

“Lucky man, the Captain,” she replies. “It’s good to see you up and about, by the way. The town was worried about you this week as far as I heard. Good of you to show your face and let them know you’re well.”

Taking over the steaming paper bag with roast-scented chestnuts in exchange for two small coins, Eren shrugs. “I didn’t do much.”

“You give people courage,” she replies. “That’s more than others can say of themselves. Plus, it’s always nice to look at a handsome young face.”

Not knowing how else to respond, Eren summons a little smile and is rewarded with that toothless grin alongside a nod. 

“See?” she says. “I’m feeling better already. Now off you go so you two can share these nuts as long as they’re still warm. We can chat another day.”

Eren chuckles and leaves the emptying market that, without all the people and colourful booths, has a nostalgic feeling to it. As if the town square would already count the hours until the next market day. 

The bag with chestnuts is warm in his hand, the nuts laying on top showing their enticing yellow flesh from below their crosswise-cut shells. He can have one of them, Eren supposes. 

Rearranging his parcels, he clutches the paper bag against his chest and starts to unpeel one of the fruits. The chestnut melts in his mouth, and as he sucks on it, his fingers take hold of a next one. 

Laughter sounds not too far away, followed by a familiar voice. “Zander says he’ll buy a round of extra strong coffee at Levi’s if he’s wrong.”

Eren looks up. Another group of Tom’s men stand around a fire grate, sipping coffee from a thermos going around. 

“Hello,” Eren greets them through a mouthful of chestnut.

“Hey, Eren.” Jules grins. “On your way home?”

He nods. “Yes, my friends are coming over later.” 

“Oh,” Timothy says. The slow smile building on his pale face reminds Eren of Levi’s right before he does something unexpected. “Can you ask them something? I wouldn’t want to lose a bet.”

“That’s cheating, Tim,” Rick says. “Good idea. I’d like to know too.”

“Count me in,” Jules says with gleaming eyes, one brown, one green. “Zander is insufferable when he wins a bet. Oh, thanks, Eren.” She smiles when he hands around the steaming bag for each of them to take a nut. They must be cold after standing guard for hours. 

“What do you want to know?” Eren asks, throwing the collected empty nut shells into the fire.

Tim takes a nut from the bag too. “We need to know if your friend Sasha’s pregnant.” 

Eren freezes. “What!” he gasps.

“Yeah,” Jules says. “We would ask her, but man, she’s dangerous lately. You should have seen her at lunch today. I wouldn’t want her to bite my hand off.”

“Nura was saying he’d lift food for her if it’s so,” Sovanna adds. “Safer for the rest of us if Sash’s breeding.” 

Torn between indignation on Sasha’s behalf and tumbling thoughts, Eren scowls. “That’s ridiculous! You know her. She’s only dangerous when it comes to…food,” he finishes. Stares.

_ What’s wrong with you lately, _ Jean asked on Thursday. But of course, he asked back then. It was stew day. With boar. Sasha’s favourite as far as one could call it that with it being hard to tell. They hadn’t had meat since the Exploration Squads returned from exploring, so it was natural she went a bit overeager there. But–

But they wanted to stay at HQ after being happy on the road for two years.  _ Connie can keep lots of secrets,  _ Sasha said before she asked if Jean and Mikasa could come to the Sparrow today too. As if she wanted to talk somewhere in a way they couldn’t at HQ. 

And Connie said, _ Sasha is better with a home to come back to every evening. She’d never say it out loud, but I know. She’s happy here. We both are. _

He called her “wife” too.

Warmth floods Eren as the world around him disappears. Sasha. Their Sasha. Pregnant? With a baby? A new, real little person in their midst?

If this is true, they need a better cake for this afternoon. A special one.

He has to tell Levi. Levi must know too.

Feet moving without thought, Eren clutches his mound of purchases close against his chest, ready to run. “I have to go,” he mumbles, turns, and flies across the cobblestones without another glance back. 

“Does that mean it’s true, Eren?” Tim yells after him. “I really want to win that bet. Oi, Eren! What about your nuts?”

“Keep them!” he yells back, hurrying towards the café. 

Right now he doesn’t care about a bet, but one thing is for certain: If it is true, this calls for a celebration.


	22. Diane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start, a small announcement. After this chapter, I will allow myself a (summer) break from this story as far as posting goes. I am assuring you, I will continue writing it; this verse is my baby, my heart, and I couldn't abandon it if I wanted to. So this is a posting break only. I have about 15 chapters up my sleeve that want to be revised, edited, and polished, a few more to be written to bridge some gaps and conclude Magpie Part 1 (yes, there will be a second part), and I promise you I'm itching to go in there. Still, there is a life outside of fandom, and it has been a bitch lately. Furthermore, June is approaching, and with it the time to enjoy the beautiful sunny season, to soak up life, and recharge with energy. I will participate in this year's Ereri Mini Bang Event too, so I won't disappear altogether. I'll still be here, I'll happily reply to your wonderful feedback, and I will be posting something (mark your first July week). But I need some calm headspace to wrap up this first part of Magpie and give it the attention and love it deserves to keep up the quality I expect of myself. I plan to be back with chapter 23 in autumn. So keep posted by subscribing to this story, or by following me on [tumblr](http://sugarplum-senpai.tumblr.com) to catch the next update. 
> 
> I wish you a beautiful, beautiful summer. Go out under the sunny sky. Get some freckles, enjoy some ice cream, embrace life. And see you very soon! I promise. <3

“You ruin further infusions like this,” Levi says, opening the little tea pot and readjusting the lid to allow some dark green leaves to peek out. “The tea needs to breathe.”

Feeling a flush burn in her neck, Diane nods. She always thought it easy to prepare a solid tea or coffee. There isn’t much science to it, is there? You boil enough water, infuse the right ingredient, and after the correct steeping time it’s ready for straining. 

However, not even an hour into her new employment at the Sparrow, it’s clear she was wrong about the no science part. The mental checklist keeps growing at rapid speed. 

The coffee brewing is one thing. She’s got this task down more or less from what she can tell; at least Levi hasn’t corrected her too much on that so far. The two cups of tea she’s brewed were each followed by a thorough revision, though, leaving her feeling like she knows nothing about tea whatsoever. Furthermore, the long and—in parts contradictory—instructions make her wonder why Levi lets her work right away. He could introduce her bit by bit, let her watch for a while, or take orders and wait tables first. Instead, he stands nearby in frowning silence and watches her make a fool of herself before talking her through a detailed report of every single mistake.

“No, only herbal infusions for these kinds of pots,” he said when she wanted to brew an Earl Grey before pointing at the collection of pottery. “Herbal brews, blacks, fruity and flowery greens, grassy and roasted greens, white, yellow.” 

To Diane, the pots more or less all look the same, except for the two for the greens which are both distinct. Taking the right pot for the Earl Grey, she wanted to ask what was the difference amongst them all, but was held back by, “Stop! The pot is too cold. Warm it up before you add the sieve with the leaves.” And when she reached for the sugar jar, Levi’s hand shot out quicker than she could see. “I don’t fucking care what they put into their coffee,” he said, gripping her wrist, “but I won’t let them murder my tea in this place.” 

Diane wanted to do everything better this second round. Instead, she did worse.

“Stop. The water is too hot,” Levi said when she was about to pour the boiling water from the kettle right into the little pot for grassy greens. “Pour it into one of the bowls first.” The instruction was followed by, “do it again; it’s not cool enough yet,” and it all went downhill from there. 

“Wrong sandglass,” Levi said after she turned the exact same sandglass she used for the Earl Grey. “Do you want to kill it? And don’t move the pot. It disturbs the leaves. Now pour it all, hold the lid with your thumb. Shake every drop out. More. More. Still more. Put some welly into it. Do you want to serve water or proper tea? There’s still more flavour in the pot. No, don’t just set it aside. Bang your hand against the spout side. Not strong enough, you want to make the leaves resettle. Again…” And now there is the thing with the opened pot and breathing leaves.

Filing the new information away, Diane brushes the sweat off her palms. She hopes she can remember everything he instructs. Levi’s insistent tone and sharp gaze make it clear he’s one of those people who don’t like to repeat themselves. 

Questions, on the other hand, seem to be all right. Hence she smiles at the soldier who ordered tea, and waits for him to take the cup back to his seat at the other end of the café before she asks, “Why do we adjust the lid?” 

“So the heat evaporates quicker,” Levi replies, wiping away some tiny drops of water on the brass counter. “Tea is delicate. You don’t want to overcook whatever is in the pot. It destroys the taste. Just as using too hot water for untreated leaves.”

“Oh,” Diane says, leaving Levi more room to polish the worktop as her blush spreads further and scorches her entire face. Explained like this it sounds so logical. Almost too obvious. At least she took the right pot for this kind of tea, the one with the built-in sieve and the funny handle, and knew the leaves weren’t supposed to be thrown away after a single steeping. 

A pair of soldiers leave their table, and smiling at them, Diane goes to fetch their empty dishes while they pay for their bill. 

“Clean it with the pots in there,” Levi instructs her as she passes him on the way to the staff department, and she nods, the china rattling slightly in her grip.

The sink is sparkling clean, as is everything in here, except for the used coffee carafes and the tea pot including sieve they used for the Earl Grey. Adding her own set of used plates, cups, and cutlery to the pile, Diane runs the dishwater, and then finds herself spoiled for choice as she looks for cleaning tools. There are rags and brushes of all sorts and sizes, some of them of a kind she never used in her life. Picking the regular washing-up brush she is used to, she sets out to scrub the delicate items, careful to not break any fragile, almost translucent china as she works. 

Diane is busy with the silverware when goodbyes and the door bell’s tinkle sound from the adjacent room, followed by Levi’s footsteps departing for the customer area of the café. A few moments later, the steps approach and enter the staff department. He stands next to her, scrutinising the dish drainer. 

“The pots aren’t clean enough,” he says, returning to the counter. “Do them again.” 

Frowning at the pots—they look perfectly clean to her—Diane bites her lip and returns the items to the dishwater, determined to do it better this time, no matter how insufficient she feels. At least Levi hasn’t told her to leave just yet. 

When she returns to the counter with one of the pots for inspection, Levi nods, and Diane finds herself sigh in relief as she tends back to the rest of the dishes. 

Seems like she can still turn this around after all. 

Levi is polishing the brass worktop again as she emerges from the staff department, a loaded tray in her hands. Upon her approach, he looks up from his task to scrutinise her work, folds the towel into a neat little parcel, and grants her another nod. “Better.”

Diane smiles and puts away the items, cups to cups, plates to plates, careful to arrange everything into orderly rows and piles.

“You’re left-handed,” Levi says, taking the spoons and forks from the tray to tidy them up. 

Frowning at him, Diane clears the emptied tray from the counter. She doesn’t know what her sinistrality has to do with anything, but she nods. “I am.” Ice seems to build in her stomach as Levi’s brow knits at the affirmation, so she swallows and pushes herself to ask, “Why?” 

“There are kyusuu with the handle on the other side,” he says. “They might be better for you.” 

He doesn’t wait for her reaction as he strides into the storage area, returning with a little timber box, birch by the looks of it. He opens it to reveal a tuft of wood wool protecting one of the pots for grassy and toasted green teas before he hands it to her with a frown. “Does this feel better?”

Uncertain whether this is a trick question or not, Diane opts to take it as genuine concern, and as her left hand closes around the clay pot to mimic the pouring movement she did earlier, she smiles. “It does.”

He nods, stuffing the overflown wood wool back into the box. “Use it then. For now, I have only this one here, but regarding the output, I’ll order some more.”

Running her fingers over the smooth and pretty looking clay, Diane takes a moment to process what just happened. Her heart skips in approval when it fully sinks in, and the prior anxiety melts into grateful joy. 

“Thank you,” she says, puts the pot next to the other ones of its kind with a mental note to rinse it before using it, and hurries back to the sink to fetch a wet towel for wiping away the wood dust on the brass. If Levi is thoughtful enough to order her new pots, the least she can do is clean his brass counter for him in return.

 

*

 

Of course, she polishes wrong too. 

“More elbow grease,” Levi tells her, humming when she tries again. “And remember the spaces around the caddies.” 

“A different rag for the caddies themselves?” Diane asks on a hunch, awarding herself a mental point when Levi places a softer looking towel before her. 

One step at a time, she tells herself. The Walls weren’t built in a day. Probably.

The entrance door swings open and the bell chimes above Big Dave. He halts on the threshold, eyes wide, mouth falling open as he gapes at her. “Blimey! Diane?”

Torn between amusement at the surprise and discomfort over being gawked at, Diane scrunches up the towel in her hand with swelling cheeks. From the moment Levi told her to join him on his side of the counter, this has been the standard reaction of nearly everyone in here. The only exceptions were Eren who stepped aside to make Diane space with a grin, and the blond soldier in the back who spoke up across the sudden silence in the café to order a “fucking chocolate cake to cope with the shock of the century.” It earned her concordant laughter and made the tension snap. Still, with each new customer entering, the palpable bewilderment experiences a revival. 

It is to be expected, Diane muses. She can’t remember a day without someone whispering Levi should hire someone to help. She never expected him to actually do it, let alone to ask her to join the staff. Her of all people. 

Not that she’s complaining. She needs this job. Wants it. Oh, how she does. Her mum will be thrilled too. She tied her stomach in knots all week over paying the bills.

Going by his wide smile, Big Dave seems to be thrilled too. He stomps dirt off his boots on the doormat and moves his massive frame forward. “What are you doing behind the counter, Diane?” 

“Working as you see,” she says and allows her laughter to burst out. “I’ve got a second job.”

“Well, blimey indeed.” Exposing a row of uneven teeth, Dave beams at her and Levi. “I didn’t know you were hiring, Captain.”

“Mm,” is all Levi says before jerking his chin to the carafes on the brass worktop. “Coffee?”

“You know it!” Dave enthuses.

Fetching a tea set from beneath the counter, Diane does her best to ignore the dagger clipped to its underside. The china rattles as she places it on the worktop. She isn’t usually this shaky, but her jangling nerves are getting the better of her this afternoon. 

Levi’s hand comes to a rest on her shoulder. Diane freezes, bracing herself for a reprimand about her clumsiness, yet as she looks at him his features are calm. Reassuring. 

“I handle security from any room here,” he says in a lowered voice, clear eyes flicking in the direction of the hidden weapon when she frowns in confusion. “Use it when you think you have to.” 

She still gazes at him when his hand lets go with a pat, and she releases a laughed sigh, shaking her head at her own silliness. What was she thinking? That he’d ask her to work for him just so he could kill her in secret? The hero of their country, who won a war for them all? Walls, he’s planning to order new pots for Diane just so she will have it easier to pour tea. He didn’t even admonish her for her clumsiness. 

“I would have liked a piece of lemon pie too, Captain,” Dave booms meanwhile. “I heard you have it new in the selection but I see you’ve already ran out. I’ll take a lovely piece of marble cake then.”

Levi nods and approaches the cake display, a plate already in his hand. Frowning at the dish, Diane wonders when he fetched it. It’s like he procured it out of nowhere. She didn’t even see him move. 

Deciding to observe Levi better from now on, Diane redirects her attention to their customer. “Strong or mild coffee, Dave?” 

“Oh, I take the strong one, Diane, thank you.” He thrusts out his massive chest with a cheerful wink. “Strong build, strong drink, eh?” 

She humours him with a laugh and takes the bigger carafe with the ‘regular’ brew. 

Levi let her find out about his carafe system by correcting her too. 

“Not for the soldiers,” he said as she was about to pour a pair of Survey Corps members their beverage. Before she had the chance to so much as lift the flask, Levi poured the dark brew himself whilst rattling down coffee powder dosages, coarseness settings, and steeping time, and Diane felt like an idiot.

Her stuttered “sorry,” was countered with nothing further than a hum, though Levi gave a brisk nod when she took the right can the next time a soldier ordered a refill. In-between she wondered whether the soldiers enjoy a preferred treatment, but then Marion came in, and Levi corrected Diane for taking the wrong carafe again: “No, she doesn’t drink it weak either.”

Ever since, she asks about coffee strengths. Just as she asks about, “milk?”

“You know it, Diane.” Big Dave beams. “And one piece of sugar, please. Gotta stay sweet.” 

He chuckles while Diane adds a blooming cloud of milk to his coffee, biting on the inside of her cheek. No matter how warm-hearted Dave’s gaze is, to be observed like this by a customer makes Diane’s blood tingle. She’ll have to get used to this, and she’d better do it quick. 

Dave rocks up onto his tiptoes. “So, how do you like your new job so far, Diane? Working for Humanity’s Strongest. What an honour, eh?”

She fumbles with the tongs to place a sugar cube onto the saucer. “It’s good,” she says, feeling both Levi’s presence at her side and Dave’s rapt attention. “I have to admit, it’s not what I expected when I woke up this morning. I’m glad though.” And it is an honour, she adds silently to herself, albeit for different reasons than Dave assumes. 

From the moment the Sparrow opened, this café has been her favourite refuge. It’s remote yet not too remote, lively yet not too much so, and so very, very beautiful. 

When the opening first was announced, she expected a dark, tiny little waterhole, assembled in a rather cold and dodgy style. With lots of rough men raising their cups, drinking their coffee, roaring about war times and their general achievements. No place for someone like her who’s always preferred the quiet and contemplation. 

It were Norman and Evelyn’s reminders to support their new supporter that convinced Diane to at least give Levi and his café a try. So she visited alone in a quiet hour after the first loud crowd of opening day guests and spectators abated, and was amazed. Never did she think a war hero’s café could be this cosy, warm, and bright. Humbled, she sat down in one of the café corners, ordered a house recommendation, and received a cup with bright golden-green glowing tea alongside a flawless, simple pound cake. One single, careful sip later tears filled her eyes. 

Her Nigel would have loved this place. He’d always dreamt about having a tea shop in the neighbourhood. He even said so the day the Titans had their final attack on this town—the day he ended under a gargantuan foot right before her eyes. Thinking about life and its cruel irony, she wiped the tears off her cheeks, smiled, and indulged in the rest of her cup with slow measured sips whilst soaking up the café’s atmosphere. She fell in love with the Sparrow right then and there.

Soon, Diane found herself returning on a regular basis, sometimes with her mum, sometimes with Steena to catch up on their friendship, or on her own, simply to bask in the ambience whilst enjoying a cup of perfectly brewed tea. Last Monday was supposed to be her farewell visit, a last selfish moment of luxury she wouldn’t be able to afford anymore. At least until her finances were better.

So no, the honour is not because of working for the strongest man there’s ever been. It’s because of having the chance to work here. In this wonderful café Levi created for them all. Her favourite place. 

“I like it a lot,” she concludes, holding on tight to the sugar jar and once more silently praying she can keep this job. 

“Good,” Big Dave booms. “Good. How’s Margret doing?”

Summoning the reassuring response she’s been practising all week, Diane smiles. Of course, he’d ask about mum. They all do. It doesn’t matter she’s talked about it so often by now she can’t stand the sound of her voice anymore. “She’s much better, thank you. She’ll be happy you asked.” She swallows with a heaviness settling in her chest. 

“Anything else, Dave?” Levi asks, adding a fork to the dessert plate. His gaze flicks towards the street before it re-settles on Big Dave.

Dave shakes his head. “I admit I was hoping to see your Eren today. How is the chap? Evelyn told me he’s got his own apron now for helping you out?”

“He’s well, thank you.” 

“I wonder, what’s he saying to this arrangement,” Dave says. “I bet he’s glad to know you’re not overworking yourself?”

“It was his idea,” Levi says. 

Diane stares. This was Eren’s idea?

Dave laughs. “Well. You certainly did this town a favour there, Captain. We were worried about you. And our Diane here.”

Grateful as she is about the town’s concordant sympathy, Diane sighs and is half-surprised, half-amused Levi does too before he asks, “The horses are fine?”

“Oh yes, yes.” Dave squares his shoulders with a nod. “All well. Missy’s arthritis is acting up again in this weather, but that’s nothing new, eh? Good of the Commander to pull her out of service.”

“Mm,” Levi replies. “She hasn’t carried adults for years.” 

“True. But the little ones love her dearly. Always sneaking Missy carrot chunks till she’s a right butterball. What about your horse, Captain? Isn’t she close to retirement too? We’d be honoured to stable her as well.”

Levi’s features soften in a mild smile. “Not yet. The Commander allotted her to first-year horsemanship training.”

“Well, she’ll teach a new generation well,” Dave says. If you don’t choose to ride her once she’s retired, we’ll make sure she gets her exercise so she’ll live a long life, Levi.”

He nods. “Thank you.”  

Diane presses sweaty palms against her long skirt to not make it look like she was brushing them dry. Calm yourself, she thinks. Even this single shift ensures mum’s meds for an entire month without having to cut back on food. You can do this, Diane. Just don’t screw up! 

She goes through her own checklist. Coffee, sugar, milk,…

Napkin!

Her fingers grab a napkin too many in their haste, and she keeps one for herself, adding only one to the platter. She goes through the list again and thinks they’ve got everything. Please let her do well.

Not only would she like to avoid angering her new boss on her very first day, but she also would like to avoid angering this particular man. After his first impression on her, he doesn’t strike Diane as someone too austere, but which normal café owner has daggers in his workplace? Plural! One would be okay, she muses, thinking of safety reasons and all the legends surrounding him. But three? 

In addition to the one beneath the counter, Diane found another blade in the staff department next to the sink, and even one in the coffee cans. Who keeps a knife in a coffee can?

Oh, and then there’s the sharp-looking jackknife he produced from his pockets earlier to open a sack of fresh coffee beans. So he has no less than four weapons. Diane wonders if Eren knows about the artillery, and if yes, what he thinks about it. Levi at least acts as if it was normal, so she tries to act like it too. 

The blonde soldier in the back looks up from her pile of writing work and grins at her. The eye contact lasts, so Diane takes the strong coffee with her as she winds her way out of the staff area with an excusing smile at Dave. Her path is paved with glances following her, and she keeps her head up, eyes fixed on the grinning soldier. Erika, Diane reminds herself. Her name is Erika. 

“Do you need a refill?” she asks. 

“Always,” Erika replies with mischievous eyes as she sets aside her pen. Her fingers are ink-stained, and a dark smudge adorns her brow where she probably wiped away her fringe or scratched her brow. 

Filling up the empty cup, careful not to spill anything, Diane smiles. “You’ve got ink on your forehead.”

“Do I, huh?” Erika replies, not doing anything about it. “Remind me to check when I leave. By then there’ll probably be more.”

Awash with sudden familiarity and warmth, Diane laughs. “My dad used to say that too. He was a penman for the town hall.”

“I’m in good company then.” Erika stretches her fingers. “He didn’t have any secret remedies against hand cramps, by any chance?”

“Aside from cooling and bending the fingers back while actively working, no,” Diane says. “Mum sometimes swore he’ll snap his fingers soon. Though on the bad days he’d soak his hands in diluted lineament water. Swore it helped keep the cramps down the next day.”

Erika snorts and bends her fingers. “I believe that.” She winks a moment before her knuckles pop. “Thanks anyway. There’s always a chance someone has a miracle solution. Voluntary overworking doesn’t help the matter at any rate. I’ve always been a masochistic arsehole on the job though.”

Diane smiles and points at the empty plate on her table. “More chocolate cake?”

“Not yet, thank you.” Blue eyes hold Diane’s as she takes the plate. “You’re doing us all a favour, you know that?”

Diane tilts her head. “What do you mean?” She already has an inkling.

Erika nods in Levi’s direction. “It does him good to finally have help. Eren seems fucking happy about it which already says it all. The Walls know this man needs another pair of hands to assist sometimes. Too stubborn to admit it or even ask for it though.”

Grip tightening around the dessert plate, Diane swallows and admits, “I think I need this job more than he needs me.”

“Perhaps. I don’t know you that well yet and I won’t shove my nose into your business. But I know he wouldn’t have hired you if he had only one good reason against doing so.”

Diane shakes her head with a sinking feeling in her stomach. “I’m making lots of mistakes.”

“So what?” Shrugging, Erika takes a sip of her coffee. “It’s your first day. You’re only human. Believe me, if he thought you wouldn’t be up for it, he wouldn’t have asked, let alone let you serve the patrons right away. I doubt he expects miracles. He never has. And you’ll know should you piss him off. He doesn’t mince matters.”

To Diane’s own surprise, a burst of laughter breaks free. “Yeah, I already noticed.”

Erika winks, the coffee’s steam rising before her eyes. “Then you already know everything there is to know. His tactic has always been to throw people into the mess and see whether they can swim. Sometimes I think he doesn’t know how else to be.” At Diane’s frown she smiles. “Don’t tell me you’re a worry wart too.” She expels a heavy sigh under a shake of her head, yet her eyes still sparkle with mirth. “Just when I thought we could get along so well.”

Returning the smile, Diane sighs. “I try not to be.”

Erika grins back. “Good for you. Truly though. Trust me. He expects the best of people but he’s seen enough shit to be realistic about it. It makes them grow though and push their own limits on their own accord. And to tell you a little secret: The moment he gives you an info dump on his family, you’re golden.”

Taking in the valuable information, Diane blinks. His family? She thought he didn’t have any…Mikasa Ackerman as a distant relative aside.

The café bell chimes, and another pair of soldiers step in, one of them blond, the other with hair like a flame. Erika nods at them in greeting before she picks up her pen again, lifting her brows at Diane. “Looks like your cue.”

“So it does,” Diane replies. Leaving Erika to her writing, she returns to the counter and expects another baffled stare at her presence by Levi’s side. Instead, her welcoming “Hello,” is answered by a pair of wide smiles. 

“Rumour has it you hired help, Levi,” says the blond. 

“About time I’d say,” the other one adds with a silky voice, his brown eyes not leaving Diane as he holds out a hand across the counter. “Hello, Diane. I’m Red.” 

The other soldier exhales and rolls his eyes with a chuckle. 

“I know your name,” Diane says, glancing at the outstretched hand before meeting the confident gaze. 

_ Red, _ she hears Steena sigh.  _ Best shag ever. I swear, if you ever need to get it out of your system, he will blow your mind. I didn’t even know there were orgasms like this. _

Diane always found this an exaggeration. How good could sex be after all? Back then she also was shocked Steena would as easily agree to a physical arrangement like this. Multiple times. Being confronted with Red’s full attention now, she almost sees the appeal though. Bright smile, attentive eyes which scan her with the exact right intensity and a certain casual yet unravelling air to him that feels like velvet caressing her every nerve ending without even the slightest touch. 

Bracing herself, she smiles, takes Red’s dry and warm hand, and suppresses a responsive shudder when his slender fingers close around hers with deliberate gentleness. Her neck suddenly feels impossibly hot while her lower belly seems to liquify. Oh, this is not good. 

She reaches for her voice. “I heard of you…”

His thumb rubs over her wrist, sending hot goosebumps up her arm. “Only good things, I hope.”

“…and I’m not interested,” she insists, forcing her fingers to open and let go before she can think too much of these auspicious palms gripping her elsewhere. She hasn’t been touched in too long. That must be it. She misses having someone in her arms, another’s pulse against hers. Another’s warmth and tenderness completing her. But no, she thinks, Steena didn’t exaggerate. If a simple handshake is this  _ good– _

“Are you sure?” Red asks. 

“I’m a romantic in search of a monogamous partner and future co-parent,” she sighs. “I don’t think that matches your style.”

The other soldier laughs. 

“Ah,” Red says but still smiles with soft gleaming eyes. “What a shame. Let me know if you change your mind.” 

“Let  _ me _ know if he gives you any trouble,” the blond one says with a wink, elbowing Red’s upper arm. “I’m Chuckles and this idiot’s designated friend. Good to meet you, Diane. Welcome to the team.”

Levi snorts. “Do you have anything to order or are you only here to harass my new employee?” 

His word choice makes Diane smile. She felt his calm attention on her during her exchange with Red. Another test perhaps, she thinks, remembering Erika’s words. He could have intervened any moment, yet it probably is more effective to let her deal with such issues herself. 

Come to think of it, it’s how Diane prefers to teach the kids at the playschool as well. It’s better to let them do their thing and fight their own battles unless it’s clear they need help. An adult voice instantly calling for reason the moment a problem arises often only delays an actual conflict, if not downright worsens it by depriving the children of their chance to prove themselves. It’s refreshing to be treated like this in return for once. It fills her with pride to be trusted enough to speak for herself.

Gasping, Red places his hand on his heart in feigned hurt. “I was only checking.”

“Mm,” Levi says in a flat tone, though his mouth is still curved upwards. “Didn’t expect you here before tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, I’ll be back in the morning. But I was curious,” Red says with another smile at Diane. It’s still unravelling yet lost the prior smouldering intensity. “News travels fast.”

“You don’t say,” Levi replies though he smirks too. 

“Most of all, we came to fetch two thermos flasks and the rest of your bagels as it seems,” Chuckles says with a sideways glance at the display. 

Levi hums and turns to Diane. “Order for the guards,” he tells her. However he knows that. “Extra strong.”

Diane nods. “Okay.” She fetches the coffee powder. Dagger, her brain supplies. I’m holding a weapon. 

She clears her throat and asks, “How many spoons?” 

When Red and Chuckles leave with a pair of smiles and the orders in their hands, Diane feels her shoulders relax. She even laughs when Red shoots her a final wink through the window front before disappearing out of sight. 

Smiling to herself, she brushes some minuscule remains of coffee powder off the counter and shakes her head. Well, that was interesting. Then she notices Levi looks at her with the hint of a nod, and she realises with a rising warmth in her chest she’s already learning how to read him. Furthermore, she did well. 

He still doesn’t say anything so she decides to seize the opportunity to pester him with questions. “How do you know an order is for the guards?” No, this puzzler won’t get her a helpful answer. “How do I?” she redirects.

Levi gives the hint of a smile. “You ask.” 

“Okay.” She thinks about it, watching him rearrange the already perfectly organised caddies and cans before reaching for a towel to polish the brass. He seems to have a system for this she hasn’t figured out yet. Going by Levi’s lack of corrections whenever Eren moved something around earlier, Eren seems to know this system inside out. He also seemed to know exactly who gets what kind of coffee without having to ask, and how Levi likes his counter to be wiped. 

Diane has to learn quick if she doesn’t want to be a burden. So she asks further, “Is there someone else who drinks extra strong coffee?”

Wiping his area of the counter, Levi hums. “The Commander and another soldier Red usually strolls around with. Nondescript guy. Light green eyes. Dark hair. Average height. Slender build for a soldier.”

“Tom,” Diane says. 

“Yes.” He frowns, pausing before he asks, “How do you know Red?”

“A friend of mine told me about him.” When Levi doesn’t answer with more than a nod, she presses on. “Why?”

Though he smiles, he doesn’t reply and sets out to brew a fresh infusion of the tea Diane prepared earlier. She frowns. 

All re-brewable teas in the Sparrow come with all two additional infusions free, and Levi never struck her as someone who’s scamming his customers. He must know the soldier won’t ask for both remaining refills, and Levi doesn’t want them to go to waste. That, or that they have to start a wholly new brew later on.

Diane looks up to see the soldier still sitting there with his friends. He has a bald head, shaved down to only a few dark stubbles, and when he smiles his front teeth are big. Two more infusions for that guy, she thinks.

“If a Corps soldier asks for a flask these days,” Levi says, making her refocus on him, “it’s mostly for the guards across town. Unless it’s for the Commander, but they will say when it is for her because I mostly include food. If she doesn’t fetch her coffee herself, she usually sends Tom, Red, Erika, or Eren offers himself. Neither of them pays deposit for the flasks. Nor do Eren’s family. You’ll meet them later.” He pours the lush-green-coloured tea into his cup, giving the pot a couple of jerky shakes to capture every precious drop.

“You’ll have to learn some names,” he says when he’s adjusted the pot’s lid. “You know everyone in town?”

“More or less,” she replies. “Not all their relatives, but everyone living here I know by name.”

“Except HQ,” he says before taking a first careful sip. It’s not a question.

She smiles. “Yes. I only know a few names from there.”

Instead of asking her which names she is familiar with, he nods and sets aside his cup. “We’ll need an efficient tab system. I can keep up with what you serve while I’m here. I need you to keep up the other way around.” 

“I can make a list,” she suggests. 

His nod is so small she would have missed it if she hadn’t paid attention. “There’s a scratchpad under the counter.” 

She smiles and quickly finds a pad of paper with a set of pencils. She scribbles ‘Baldie Big Tooth I/3, sensha’ onto the front page.

“C-h, not s-h,” Levi corrects her spelling, though his eyes sparkle. “Nice nickname.”

Diane grins and overwrites the wrong ‘s’ with a ‘c’. “Thanks.”

Levi hums. “Guy’s called Mouse though.” When she looks up at him in surprise, he adds, “Underground nickname that stuck.”

“Oh,” she says, scratching out her own nickname and writing ‘Mouse’ above it.

“Beanstalk guy with him is Skifter, the freckled one is called Nico. You know the Commander?” he asks when Diane added the other names to the list.

“Hanji Zoe?” Diane nods. “Of course.”

“Special case, that one. Needs the extra strong coffee like you just brewed. You will want to have it ready when she shows up. Her regular schedule is at opening time and again around six. She has her own big mug.” He nods at a cup standing ready on the counter. “Needs two fillings in a row before she’s something like human. She has a bad habit of forgetting to eat, so when you think she looks like she could use something, she most likely does. Choose something savoury or rich and serve it to her without asking.”

Taking more notes, Diane nods and remembers something Levi said before. “What do I do when someone asks for a flask for her?”

Levi smiles. “You ask them whether she already ate, no matter the hour of the day. They’ll know. She has a weekly tab, usually pays on Fridays or Saturdays. She only pays half.” His grey eyes search hers as if to check whether she can file that much information at once, and nods to himself before he continues. “Similar to Hanji, if you think Eren needs something to eat, whatever you deem most fitting. When he scowls at you for it, tell him to argue with me. He burns food quicker than an oven. Evenings aren’t too crucial since we eat right after closing, but keep an eye on him during the weekends.” 

While he talks he starts to readjust the caddies and tools on the counter from anew, nudging them all back and forth until they stand exactly the way they stood before he touched them. 

“Val comes by every Friday with deliveries. He receives a cup of tea on the house for that. He prefers herbal infusions. Evelyn usually comes by every early afternoon. She drinks a cup of tea on the house too. Always a fine one. You’ll have to learn how to properly brew her favourites first. Recently, it’s this one.” He pats one of the cans before opening it and showing the contents to Diane. “Roasted tea stems,” he says before closing the caddie and reaching for another, the smallest can of them all. “Or she will ask for this one which is a bit trickier to brew. You had this on your first visit here. It’s a Gyokuro.”

Looking first at him before marvelling at the promising rich scent coming from the opened caddie, Diane wonders how he can possibly remember what she drank almost eighteen months ago. He doesn’t give her the time to ask though, as he already continues. 

“If we have a new tea in our assortment, Evelyn will get that one. Once a week Norman comes by when she’s gone. Always takes the same seat, always gets the same tea since he’ll be curious what she had. It’s complimentary for him as well. Arne never pays with money, he barters. Katinka sometimes too. Eren is always off charges. Everyone else pays regular prices unless Eren or I tell you otherwise.”

“Okay,” Diane says. She already expected as much regarding Eren, though it’s a relief to have the confirmation in form of a direct order.

Levi’s chin jerks towards the left corner where Erika is busy with a fresh piece of paper. “Writey over there is off charges today. She won’t like it and will want to pay for everything. We’ll hear her out, wager, and charge her for only the food in the end.”

“Why not charge her for only the food from the start then?” Diane asks.

“Because then she’ll try to wager for that too,” he replies. “She did too much to help us this week and doesn’t have to work her arse off but she does to get it finished. She can drink a hole into my floor today and she’d have the right to walk out without payment.” 

“Why, what does she work on?” The question escapes her before she can rein in her curiosity, and Diane scowls at herself. One doesn’t stick one’s nose into a penman’s work. Ever. Especially not when the penman is in such an important position as Erika. “Sorry,” she mumbles, lowering her head. “Not my place. I didn’t want to intrude.” 

To her surprise, Levi answers anyway. “New laws and directives for Eren. To keep him safe.” 

“Oh.” Her gaze finds Erika at the far end of the café, drawing slow, elegant lines. An absorbed scowl dominates her features, reminding Diane of her father when he wrote on something important to him. 

So the capital’s soldiers in town did stir up the local military branch after all. It explains why Levi was so tight-lipped on Monday, and pale on Tuesday. He must love Eren a lot. 

It must be hard to not being able to do much to help from his current position. It’s probably why his friends help him so much too. Diane smiles. It’s good he’s not alone. He sometimes felt like this to her but apparently, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

He takes another sip of his tea, and as his eyes soften Diane realises she should make herself more familiar with the drinks she pours. 

“What if I want a cup?” she asks, refusing to blush at the request, yet feeling the heat creep up her arms nonetheless. “Or need a snack?”

Instead of looking indignant, Levi jerks his chin towards the notepad. “You’ll have it, and write it on a list. We’ll charge it with your salary.”

She smiles. “I will. And what about work clothes? Do I need an apron?”

“Mm.” His eyes flicker towards the streets again. “Eren will have ordered you one, so you’ll have it by the end of next week.”

“Should I wear another one meanwhile?”

Levi lifts an eyebrow, and she smiles at the implication. “I don’t mean Eren’s, unless that’s all right with the both of you. I can bring one from home. It’s plain too.”

He shrugs. “If you want.”

She nods and is about to ask whether she should tend to the dishes in the back next when bright laughter from the other side of the window front draws her attention towards the street. A red scarf catches her eye, and her heart skips. Mikasa Ackerman!

The door opens to let in a foursome of soldiers, and Diane bites on her lip to restrain a little gasp. She knows who all of them are. Levi said so himself. Eren’s family. The heroes of the final battle against the Titans. 

Ordering herself to breathe, she bites down harder on her lip when four pairs of eyes stare at her, Mikasa and the man at her side jerking out of it first to look at Levi. 

The brunette woman meanwhile cheers. “Whoa, it’s true! You hired help!” She storms forward, holding out her hand across the counter. “So great to meet you. Diane, wasn’t it? I’m Sasha. This is Connie,” she motions to her left where the man with blond spikes chuckles. 

Diane unclenches her jaw and laughs, shaking both their hands. “I know. Nice to meet you too. And yes, it’s Diane.”

Sasha claps. “Oh, this is great. I can have even more cake like this.”

“How does this even make sense, Sash?” The tallest of them rolls his eyes before meeting Diane in a handshake too. “Hello, Diane. I’m Jean. Welcome to the group.”

Mikasa’s grey serene eyes meet hers and soften in a small smile. “I didn’t believe it when I heard. It was about time.” Her gaze flickers to Levi. “Eren’s idea?”

“So it was,” Levi replies, frowning at Sasha who looks around in the café, sniffing.

“Whoa, the weapon oil smells strong today. Oh, look! A free table. We’re so lucky. Hey, Nico, can we have this chair?”

Mikasa glances at Jean who smirks with a nod and joins Sasha and Connie at the claimed table. Sasha is still sniffing the air and barely took her seat when she jumps up from it. “Gotta pee.”

Mikasa observes her disappearing into the bathroom with the door banging shut behind her before she turns to Levi.

“You see it too, don’t you?” she asks in a lowered voice. 

Although Diane doesn’t know what she’s asking about, Levi apparently does. “Different walk.” He nods as if that said it all. 

Diane frowns at the bathroom door. Sasha isn’t sick or injured, is she? She doesn’t look like it. 

Mikasa’s mouth twitches. “She’s extremely hungry too. Let’s hope it becomes better once she hits her second trimester.”

Diane’s heart skips a beat as it all clicks into place. Sasha Braus is pregnant? With Connie Springer’s baby? Oh, this is wonderful! 

She feels herself smile for about a second, until math catches up on her to put a bittersweet damper on the news. How old is Sasha again? Five—no, close to ten years younger than her? She’s getting old.

As if being on the same track with his thoughts, Levi sighs with knitting eyebrows. “It’s why they stayed.” 

“I should have noticed weeks ago when she groaned about feeling bloated,” Mikasa says with a small sigh of her own. “Makes sense too. Took me until Thursday though.” She scrunches her nose, peering at Jean for a moment as though she felt his eyes on her. 

“Eren is the only one who doesn’t know?” Levi asks, following her gaze.

“Mm. He’ll be disappointed to find out last. Jean figured it out this morning. Sasha still thinks she has us all fooled though.” She shakes her head before shooting Diane a smile. “I’m happy for them, but you should have seen her during lunch today. Remember the night before Shiganshina?” She looks at Levi with a frown. “I think today was worse.” 

He snorts and reaches for the coffee powder. Getting the hint, Diane fetches a new carafe to set it before him. Not reusing a pot without rinsing it first was one of the first things she learnt. 

Instead of joining her friends at the table, Mikasa focuses on Diane. Her gaze feels almost as sharp as Levi’s, and her presence just as dangerous yet with a slightly different edge to it. What strikes Diane most about her appearance though, is how threadbare her scarf looks. Like a treasured piece of favourite clothing that grows more comfortable the longer you have it, up to the point you can’t part from it even when it’s close to falling apart. 

Despite her imposing demeanour, Mikasa’s voice is mild as she asks, “How do you like it here so far, Diane?”

“I’m still wrapping my mind around it, actually,” she admits and is rewarded with a small smile from the woman she admired from the moment she first heard about her. “But I like it a lot. I’m doing my best.”

“That’s good,” Mikasa says, and turns back to Levi. “The rumour about the apron is true as well?”

Closing the coffee can and nudging it back into its rightful spot, Levi heaves a sigh. “It is.”

Her eyes gleam. “As hideous as it sounds?” Levi doesn’t comment, though they share a look, and Mikasa smirks. “Jean finds it hilarious too. Where is he anyway? Upstairs?”

“Out,” Levi says, smiling and adding, “here,” a moment before Eren appears, banging the café door open as he storms in, packed with two bulky bundles that seem to do their best to hinder his entrance. 

He beams at Levi with a heaving chest, then notices Mikasa, directly followed by his friends at the table who interrupt their conversation at his sight. “You, I…” he starts, eyes going wide. His hair looks wild, his cheeks are flushed, and he looks like he’s run fast and quite a bit, despite his heavy load.

Oh, Diane thinks. He knows too.

“Eren, don’t,” Mikasa says.

Dumping one of the bundles on the counter, other than holding out a hand to grip her by the arm, he ignores her, gaze landing on the empty seat Sasha just left. “Where is she?”

“Loo,” Mikasa replies. “But Eren–”

“Aw, man,” Connie groans, slumping back in his chair and looking around. He lowers his voice. “You all know?”

“Yup,” Jean says before rolling his eyes at Mikasa’s disapproving frown. “He asked, didn’t he? I’m not going to lie.” 

“And you didn’t tell me!” Eren demands with a scowl. 

His voice is so accusing, Diane wonders why most of the customers pay him no attention whatsoever. Only Big Dave gapes at them all from his seat at the window, piece of cake falling off his lifted fork, and Mouse throws his arms up in the air with a whoop. “I was right!”

“Since when have you known?” Eren presses further, approaching Jean with energy crackling around him so hard, Diane braces herself for an impending impact. 

Rolling his eyes, Jean doesn’t seem to be perturbed. “I only found out myself this morning, doofus,” he retorts before he smirks at Connie and kicks him below the table. “Congratulations, man! Was about time, wasn’t it?”

While Connie turns red and grins, Eren glares at Levi, who smirks and shakes his head. Eren sags and scratches his neck. “Oh, sorry. I met Jules and Tim on my way here, and they asked me because Zander is betting…” he breaks off in the middle of the sentence to light up so bright with sudden excitement, it’s blinding. “We need better cake. I’ll go.”

Levi shakes his head. “No. You store away the bags. Which one is for here?” 

Eren is slipping the smaller bundle off his shoulders when the bathroom door opens, and Sasha exits with a hummed tune. 

Two steps into the room, her gaze falls on all of them, and she stops in her stroll. “Oh, bugger. There goes my announcement, doesn’t it?”

Letting the remaining bag fall where he stands, Eren leaps forward to hug her so tight she yelps. “This is why you stayed!” he cheers, lifting Sasha off the floor. “Oh, I love you!”

“Not your child, Eren,” Mikasa says, exchanging an amused glance with Levi, while Jean stands with a grin. “Daegel and Niv are still fighting for the role last I saw.”

Levi snorts, and Sasha’s laughter mingles with Connie’s chuckling. 

“Don’t squish my baby, man!” he says yet doesn’t seem to mind too much as he stands as well, blatant elation making his entire face glow. “You can have a piece of it when it’s out.”

Levi sighs, but when he looks at Diane, his eyes are soft and clear. “Go to Evelyn and Norman and check whether they still have fancy cake. Seven pieces if they can’t make it an entire one.” He looks at the little pile of soldiers hugging in his café. “We have to celebrate.”

Sasha hurrahs.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is loved. <3


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